


A Matter of Time

by allycat (choirofangels)



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Birds of Prey (And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) (2020), Harley Quinn (Cartoon 2019), Harley Quinn (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Angst and Feels, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Domestic Violence, F/F, Friends With Benefits, Gags, Handcuffs, Hurt/Comfort, Light BDSM, Oral Sex, Orgasm Control, PLEASE READ THE NOTES FOR CHAPTER TWO, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Psychological Trauma, Slow Burn, Spanking, Strap-Ons, Technically cheating but Joker is an ass so idgaf, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, demisexual Ivy, dom!Ivy, pure filth, sub!Harley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:48:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 30,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24329824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/choirofangels/pseuds/allycat
Summary: 'Joker knew where Harley was and what she was going to do but he didn’t care. He wasn’t threatened by women, his words, but he also wasn’t prepared to give Harley what she wanted, what she needed.Luckily for her, his loss was Ivy’s gain.'
Relationships: Joker (DCU)/Harleen Quinzel, Pamela Isley/Harleen Quinzel
Comments: 184
Kudos: 703





	1. The Fourteenth Time

“You’re sure you want this?” Ivy asked for the third time, holding her bedroom door open.

“M’sure,” Harley assured her, reaching out to squeeze Ivy’s hip but thinking better of it.

“Go on in then. Arrange yourself like I taught you.”

With a skip in her step, Harley walked to the plush rug in the middle of Ivy’s bedroom and turned to face her. Rooted to the spot, and with Ivy watching, she took off each item of clothing on her until she was stood in her small red panties and nothing else. Finally, she dropped to her knees, put her hands behind her back and bowed her head.

Harley had come to Ivy for one reason and one reason only. It wasn’t the first time they had done this. Ivy had been wet for half an hour already while they made small talk downstairs, just thinking about what was going to happen. Ivy removed her own underwear from underneath the dress she was wearing and followed her inside the room.

God, she loved seeing Harley like this: on her knees with her legs spread, subservient, ready. Her bunches fell by her ears, framing her face nicely. Ivy appreciated the view for a moment or two, then sat on the edge of the bed and crossed her legs. She took in the sight before her, the expanse of Harley’s cream skin littered with fading bruises and paler scars. She really was fucking beautiful.

“Look at me,” Ivy told her. Harley lifted her head and looked into her eyes, waiting for her next instruction. “You’re so pretty,” Ivy leaned forward, reaching out to push some stray hair out of Harley’s face and tuck it behind her ear. “Are you my pretty girl?”

“Yes,” Harley replied without question.

“Are you a good girl?”

Harley hesitated for a moment and bit her lip. Joker knew where Harley was and what she was going to do but he didn’t care. He wasn’t threatened by women, his words, but he also wasn’t prepared to give Harley what she wanted, what she needed.

Luckily for her, his loss was Ivy’s gain.

Ivy chuckled. “Are you a good girl for me?”

“Yes,” she replied immediately.

“Well then, you know what’s coming next don’t you?”

She watched as Harley shifted in place, already seeking friction between her spread legs and finding no relief. Ivy could read her like a book. Harley loved to be dominated, to be owned, to be the centre of someone else's world.

“Where d’you want me?” she asked coyly, her voice already breathy with excitement.

“Stand. Over here. Palms flat on the bed.” Ivy’s instructions were kind but short. Harley scrambled to her feet and did as she was told.

“Good.” Ivy stood and moved to stand behind her. “Now take a step back.” Harley did as she was told again, her back straightening out.

“Very good. Now, without getting up, pull your panties down. Slowly. Stop when I tell you to.”

Harley stifled an excited giggle which she chose to ignore, hooking her thumbs into her underwear and slowly starting to pull them over the curve of her ass, clearly putting on a show. Ivy bit her lip, fingers flexing with the urge to reach out and touch.

“Stop.” Ivy commanded when her panties were around mid-thigh. “Leave them there. Now palms back on the bed. Don’t move.”

Satisfied Harley had followed instruction, Ivy opened her wardrobe, occasionally glancing back to make sure the girl was behaving herself. With an agenda in mind, she rifled through her box of tricks and pulled out a few things before making her way back.

“You’re doing very well today,” Ivy observed. Harley had been an insubordinate, bratty sub at first, but she was a quick learner. Ivy reached out and ran her fingertips lightly down her spine. It was the first time they had made contact and Harley’s cheeks flushed, even the smallest of touches making her breath hitch.

“These are what we’ll be using,” Ivy told her, laying out four items on the bed and pointing at each one in turn. “Are these okay? Use your words, honey.”

“Oh _fuck_ ,” Harley blurted out, a little squeaky. Her enthusiasm was clearly getting the better of her. 

“Tsk. And you were doing so well,” Ivy tried really hard to sound disappointed even though Harley’s desperation turned her on so much it almost hurt.

“Sorry,” Harley sounded flustered. Ivy could tell she was really wound up already, this was going to be fun. “Yes. Hell yes, they’re okay,”

“We should start with... The paddle, I think,” Ivy mused, like she hadn’t planned this all weeks ago. She picked it up, turning it over in her hands and moved to stand behind her, putting a hand on the small of her back to steady her.

“Legs a little further apart,” she instructed, touching the tops of Harley’s inner thighs with the paddle until she was situated in position. She wanted Harley to feel exposed, untouched. She wouldn’t get what she wanted. Not yet. “We’ll do twenty today. Count for me.”

The silence that followed was broken only by the sound of Harley’s shallow breathing as she waited in anticipation. 

The first smack cracked like a whip and it made Harley jump. “Ah!” She gasped in surprise and moaned beautifully as the pain began to work its magic. Ivy watched as her pretty pearl ass bloomed to rose pink within seconds. “One.”

The second came down on the other cheek, just as hard, making Harley shift a little on her feet. She bit her lip, “nnfgh, two.”

“Louder,” Ivy instructed, bringing down the third before Harley could open her mouth to apologise.

“Three!” she shouted, out of surprise more than obedience.

Ivy chuckled and began to warm up. Without Harley counting, it was easy to lose herself in this, forever addicted to Harley’s little noises, self-restrained movements and darkening skin. Harley, to her credit, was holding herself together well. Time seemed to still around them, Ivy drinking in the roll of her shoulders, arch of her back, shake of her thighs. 

She almost made it through without a slip up. Almost.

“Nineteen, oh _fuck me_ ,” Harley gasped, her arms beginning to tremble.

Almost there.

One final _smack!_ and they were done. “Twenty,” she gasped, voice thin and desperate. “Pammy _please_ -”

“I should give you another five for that.” Ivy reprimanded. “You call me Red during our play, don’t you honey? Red like your pretty little ass.”

Harley whined, rocking on her feet as Ivy gently stroked over her tender skin.

“You know my pleasure comes first,” Ivy reminded her. These were the rules. Harley knew the rules. 

“Always,” she sounded almost reverent.

“On your knees,” Ivy told her. Harley practically dropped to the floor, eyes locked on Ivy as she moved to stand in front of her. Harley’s eyes darkened when Ivy put one foot on the bed, spreading her legs and exposing herself.

“Come here.” Even to her own ears, Ivy’s voice was low and sultry. She couldn’t help it.

Harley shuffled forward on her knees, underwear still around her thighs. Though she knew what she was going to do, she didn’t lean in. Not yet. Not until she was told. Good girl.

Ivy reached down and pulled out her bunches, rolling the hair ties onto her own wrists so she could get a good grip in her hair. Harley loved having her hair pulled. She entwined her fingers through the blonde and cupped the back of Harley’s head. Slowly, purposefully, she brought Harley’s mouth between her legs and told her “lick”.

The first hot swipe of Harley’s tongue was so much of a relief it made Ivy moan out loud. “That’s it,” she praised. “My good girl.”

She’d missed this. She’d missed this so fucking much. Harley always put her all into everything she did and this was no exception. She pushed her face against Ivy, licking long, broad stripes all the way through her, until eventually - _finally_ \- fixating on her clit. Harley moaned as Ivy felt a wave of pleasure run through her, she was throbbing for release, aching for it, and Harley could tell.

She tightened her fingers in Harley’s hair. “God Harley, your _mouth_ ,” Ivy was so turned on she practically growled. Harley risked putting her hands on Ivy’s thighs and squeezing lightly, anything to detract from the urge to touch herself. Her fingertips gently dug into Ivy’s skin but she was so turned on, her nerves all finely tuned to one point, she barely felt it.

Moments later, Ivy pulled Harley away from her, panting. Harley stumbled back onto her ass in surprise, confusion written all over her face.

Ivy tried to compose herself. “You were going to make me come, she explained. “Not yet.” 

Harley chanced a smirk, clearly proud of herself. 

“Stand up.” 

Harley did and Ivy took one step into her space, tugging lightly on her bottom lip. “Now, that sinful, beautiful mouth of yours is probably tired, so let’s rest it, shall we?”

Ivy leaned over to the bed and picked up the ballgag, dangling it an inch from Harley’s face, watching her eyes follow its pendulum movements. 

She reached round Harley to produce a dog clicker from her bedside drawer. “Focus,” she said and Harley’s eyes immediately locked with hers. “Tell me what we do when you can’t say the safeword?”

Harley smiled. “I use this,” she plucked the dog clicker from Ivy’s hand, held it up and clicked it twice.

“Good,” Ivy praised, using her free hand to pointedly tap Harley’s jaw. “Open.” 

Harley dutifully opened her mouth, Ivy placing the ballgag between the rows of her tiny white teeth. The strap extended round Harley’s head and Ivy took the time to make sure it was comfortable. Ready and eager, Harley bowed her head again, ready to play.

In a moment of weakness, Ivy put one finger under Harley’s chin and tilted her head up, their eyes locking, their faces an inch apart. The electricity in the air was palpable. Ivy held her breath as Harley didn’t look away. 

“Hm,” Ivy muttered fondly, voice low and soft, breaking the silence. “Very, very pretty.” 

Harley’s eyes grew misty, which wasn’t uncommon during their play. Ivy drew the pad of her thumb across Harley’s cheek, allowing the moment of tenderness to go on a little while longer, then leaned in and kissed the ball between her teeth.

“Back to how you were when I spanked you, sweetheart,” Ivy commanded fondly, smirking when Harley all but scrambled to her position, knowing what was to come next.

Ivy took the last two items from the bed, watching Harley almost vibrate with anticipation as she listened to Ivy remove her dress and put on the strap on dildo.

Once it was fit properly, she walked up behind Harley, put one hand on the small of her back and the other on her shoulder, a wordless instruction to stand straight. The strap on pressed against the tender, reddened skin on Harley’s ass making her stir and moan.

Ivy ran her hands down Harley’s arms, stopping as she held both wrists, bringing them together behind Harley’s back. Dog clicker held steady in her sweaty palm, Ivy cuffed her and spun her round so they were facing each other.

Ivy drank in the sight in front of her, Harley’s cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright, dusky nipples hard and her stomach rising and falling with excitement.

“God, you’re beautiful,” Ivy told her. “Step out of your panties for me now, I want them off.”

Harley tried, but it wasn’t that easy. Over the course of things they had gotten a little rolled up and tangled and – without being able to use her hands – Harley was struggling to get them past her knees. She kept on trying, wriggling, hopping in place, rubbing her legs together, but they wouldn’t budge. Ivy watched her with dry amusement, but it was undercut with something a lot deeper, more insistent; all Harley ever wanted to do was please.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Ivy took pity, kneeling down in front of Harley and bringing her panties to the floor. She nudged Harley’s ankle and Harley dutifully stepped out of them, blushing.

Ivy looked up then and met wide, lust-blown eyes. Clearly Harley’s mind was going into overdrive at the sight of Ivy on her knees. She ran one hand up the inside of her leg, from her calf, up the inside of her thigh, revelling in Harley’s sharp intake of breath through her nose.

“Fuck, baby,” Ivy moaned, feeling for the first time just how wet Harley was, listening to the frustrated moan Harley managed around the gag. “You’re really ready for this, huh?”

Harley nodded vigorously and Ivy stood, pushing her back onto the bed. She fell and Ivy was straight there after her, taking Harley’s legs in her hands, bending her knees up and apart. She had almost exhausted her own patience, the sight of Harley bound, gagged and begging like this threatening to undo her.

“Now, what do we say?” she asked teasingly, pushing the head of the strap on against Harley’s clit.

“Uh-leeas?”

“Sorry, what was that?”

Harley let out a frustrated squeal around the gag. “Uhlees!”

“Good,” Ivy reached over to her bedside table for the lube. She poured a generous amount into her own hand and used it to coat the strap on. Harley watched her, stomach muscles straining, eyes wide.

“Breathe, honey,” Ivy told her softly. She slipped a finger inside of Harley, just to feel her, to enjoy the sensation while she could. Harley collapsed back to the bed and moaned long and loud, panting when Ivy added another.

“Shh, baby, I got you,” Ivy reassured her, waiting until Harley’s breath steadied before removing her fingers and pushing the dildo slowly inside of her. She continued with shallow rocking of her hips, watching with fascination as it disappeared inside of her inch by inch.

The position was oddly intimate as Ivy leaned over the top of her, placing both her hands on the bed by Harley’s ears. They moved together, Harley’s moans and soft little staccato gasps punctuating each roll of Ivy’s hips. She had to forcefully tear her gaze away from watching the space where the two of them met and looked into her eyes. 

They were wide and shining; she was looking at Ivy like she held the world in her hands. Ivy forgot herself and stilled her hips completely, suddenly and completely lost in her, only realising when Harley whined. 

She came back to herself with a rush, breaking eye contact before she let anything like her feelings assume control. She leant down, taking one of Harley’s nipples into her mouth for something to concentrate on.

The resultant moan from Harley was wild, torn from the back of her throat. She was close, Ivy could tell. She picked up the pace, moving a hand down between her legs to rub her thumb over Harley’s swollen clit. Ivy chanced a look to Harley’s face again and watched her eyes roll back in pleasure. 

She was clearly lost in herself, lost in the feeling. Ivy tried to remind herself this is what Harley came to her for. Just this. Nothing else.

Ivy was close too, the strap on rubbing against her as she moved. She sped up her hips instinctively, seeking more, needing more. Harley responded by wrapping her legs around Ivy and digging her heels into the small of her back. She wanted Ivy closer, harder, faster.

It was that thought, the knowledge that – regardless of what it meant – in that moment, Harley wanted her, Harley needed _her_ , that drove her crashing headfirst into an orgasm. Her hips stuttered as she gasped, trying to focus on keeping momentum, even when it became almost too sensitive and she wanted to stop. 

She had to keep going. It was all for Harley.

She leaned over, touched her lips to Harley’s ear and whispered “You’ve been so good… So pretty… So perfect… You can come for me, princess.”

As Harley arched her back, Ivy watched her bite her gag to stop from screaming in ecstasy. Ivy knew orgasms only happened for Harley when they were together; Joker could never- had never- He was all about himself. She shuddered at the thought. 

And she would never, ever get tired of making it happen.

She slowed her hips as Harley began to jolt with aftershocks and over-sensitivity, then pulled out gently before pushing the strap on to the floor. Once her breathing had slowed a little, Ivy reached down and placed both her hands under Harley’s shoulders, bringing her to a sitting position.

She started by wordlessly reaching behind her to undo the strap of her gag, then to click the little lever and remove her handcuffs. Only when she was free did Harley look up at her and, to Ivy’s slight surprise, her eyes welled up with tears.

“Hey, it’s okay-” Ivy soothed, but the second their eyes met she grabbed Ivy’s face, crushing their mouths together in a heated, forceful kiss. Ivy let it go on for as long as she could take, before her chest began to tighten in that way it only ever did when she was alone, at night, thinking about her.

“Thank you,” Harley whispered earnestly against Ivy’s lips, a stray tear slipping into her mouth. “That was… You’re...”

Ivy didn’t think she could bear the end of her sentence, whatever it was going to be.

“Come on,” she said tenderly, taking one of Harley’s hands in hers. “Come take a bath with me.”

Ivy knew Harley didn’t think the aftercare was necessary, but it was something that she insisted on. This time, though, Harley didn’t put up a fight. The first time, she had defiantly put her clothes on and left but had come back an hour later when nobody else would take the time to cuddle her.

Ivy led her to the bathroom. They stood on the cold tile while Ivy turned on the hot tap, added bubble bath and let the water warm. She climbed in, extending a hand to Harley who climbed in after her, settling between her legs. Ivy put her arms around her waist and held her close, both of them watching the bath fill and the bubbles multiply.

“You did so well,” Ivy said softly, resting her chin on Harley’s shoulder. 

Harley hummed, content, before scooping up a handful of bubbles and thrusting them into Ivy’s hair. Ivy gasped, then laughed. “Until now.”

Harley twisted round and stuck her tongue out. She always got a little non-vocal for a while after play. It had been strange the first time it happened, but now Ivy was used to it. As long as she was okay.

There was something bothering Ivy, though. After the bath was done filling she shut the water off and entwined their fingers together. “Why were you crying, Harls?” she asked softly.

“I dunno,” Harley answered evasively.

“I think you do.”

“It was… It-. Um.” Harley frowned, searching for the words. “It felt… Amazing, y’know? It was just… A lot.”

Ivy considered. “You were overwhelmed?”

“Yeah. In a good way! I’m fine, I feel _great_ , but-. It was like scratchin’ an itch that’s been botherin’ you for months. That’s gonna make you crazy, right? Imagine you can never reach an itch and it drives you crazy then when someone scratches it real hard- The relief- It’s a _lot_.” Harley tilted her head back as much as she could. “Is that… Okay?”

Ivy smiled, kissing the loveable goof on the forehead, trying really hard not to internalise what her words meant. “Yes, it’s okay.”

“Will you wash my hair?” Harley asked innocently; Ivy appreciated the subject change. “I like it when my hair smells like you.”

Ivy couldn’t say no to her, not ever. Not years ago, when she had brought up the idea of them doing this in the first place, or when she came back for the second time, or the fifth, or all the times since. Ivy thought about each one in turn as she lathered the suds into Harley’s hair, massaging her scalp. They had learned so much together, grown together, come together. They shared this amazing secret that Ivy was scared to admit she lived for. Harley was her best friend, but she was more than that. 

She was everything.

Ivy’s stomach began to knot as she finished rinsing the suds out of her hair. She knew what was coming.

About an hour later, they were dressed and downstairs, watching reruns of Roadrunner cartoons on the couch.

“I… Uh…” Harley looked justifiably sheepish. “I gotta go. Thanks, Pammy.”

Ivy grimaced. She hated this.

“You can do better, Harls.”

“I know,” she admitted.

“Stay. Stay with me. We don’t even have to-” she started, but the blank expression on Harley’s face made her stop. She sighed. This wasn’t the first time they’d had this conversation and it never ended the way she wanted it to.

“I love ya, Pammy,” Harley mumbled, kissing her cheek but avoiding eye contact. “I gotta go.”

“I love you too,” Ivy replied sadly, hating how true that was. She walked Harley out, giving her a little wave as she walked down the garden path, away from her.

Ivy shut the door and stood in her hallway, her hair still damp. She sniffed it and closed her eyes, hoping against all hope it wouldn’t be too long before Harley came back to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huh. So I wrote nothing for like three years then in 48 hours I wrote a cute thing, spent hours on a plot for a long and intelligent story and celebrated by writing 3.5k of pure damn filth. Balance to the universe has been restored.
> 
> I'm also really sorry because apparently I am incapable of writing these two without feelings. Just can't do it. I tried.
> 
> (Left the ending kinda tragic on purpose since 1. tragedy in their relationship canon-compliant >:ccc and 2. it opens up the possibility of tooth-rotting fluff/smut if that's something you'd like to read? HMU!)
> 
> Comments/constructive criticism welcome! Also it's 2AM so it's technically my birthday!


	2. The Last Chance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started to write the next chapter from Harley's POV and it got really dark really fast.
> 
> This contains no smut just lots of angst. I needed to get Harley away from Joker for good. I hate myself too, but I swear this will have a happy ending. Stick with me.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNINGS: Domestic violence, systematic emotional and psychological abuse, misogyny, reference to alcohol and drug use, victim blaming, dub-con, trauma processing. It's just fucking horrible.
> 
> tl;dr: Joker is the absolute worst and Harley takes a chance. You don't need to read this to get the next chapter if it's going to make you upset. ♥

Although she hated admitting it, this thing with Puddin’ had become difficult.

Harley ran a hand through her tousled hair, sighing as she stepped through the door into their apartment. She could hear him on the phone from the other room and she cringed. He was bitching someone out about something. It was all he ever seemed to do lately.

She still loved him, though and – even though he didn’t like to show it – she knew he loved her too. The guilt from being with Ivy again washed over her in a wave as she toed off her shoes and folded herself onto the sofa to wait for him. 

She wrapped her arms around herself. This thing with Ivy had become… Overwhelming. That’s the word she had used. _Overwhelming_. Harley chewed on her lip, anxiety bubbling in her chest as she listened to her boyfriend wrap up his telephone call. She wondered what kind of mood he was in today.

“Harley! You’re back!” he greeted cheerily as he walked into the room, like he hadn’t seen her in months. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Hey Puddin’,” she forced herself to smile around the words, watching him as he closed the distance between them.

“Didya have fun with the ragweed?” he asked nonchalantly, vaulting the back of the moth-eaten sofa to sit next to her. Harley schooled the smile onto her face, defensive anger bubbling in her stomach at the spiteful nickname. She took a breath, forcing her bitterness back to where it came from. She had no right.

Puddin’ had never really taken the time to learn about Harley’s friends, since most of her friends were his friends first anyway, but he knew about Ivy. The hatred between the two of them was mutual and fierce. She was grateful that he let her keep Ivy around, though, regardless of how he felt. He could be kind that way, sometimes. The guilt doubled-down inside of her. 

“Uh, yeah,” she answered awkwardly, pulling her sleeves down so he couldn’t see the red rings on her wrists from where she’d strained against the cuffs.

“Good. ‘Cause that’s the most important thing,” he told her breezily. “Ya had _fun_.” He smirked, reaching out to touch Harley’s jawbone. “I’m going out with the boys tonight,” he continued, casual as you like, his tone bright as he checked his watch. “Don’t wait up.” He leaned in and kissed her, his lips salty and dry. Harley held her breath, waiting for him to dictate if the kiss was going to go any deeper.

It wasn’t. He got up, grabbed his jacket and left with a brief wave and not another word.

Harley felt a little relieved, followed closely by another wave of guilt for being glad he was gone. Emotionally exhausted, she reclined back into the cushions and closed her eyes.

Without warning, a flashback began to replay in her mind of the one time Harley had tried to get Puddin’ to try BDSM with her:

She hadn’t known about it all that long herself. A few days beforehand, Ivy had taken her to a club for their monthly girls’ night out. Even though there had been no actual sex, little had been left to the imagination. It changed Harley for good. She and Ivy had spent hours talking about it afterwards, back on Ivy’s couch, sharing another bottle of wine before sleep.

She had rushed home the next day, hungover and excited to tell Puddin’ all about it. He was the man she loved, the man she wanted to explore this with, it was something they could share together, just the two of them. 

“So whaddya think, you wanna try?” she had asked him nervously, playing with the ladder in her tights.

He scoffed, and put a hand on hers to still it.

“Harley, I think it’s cute you like going to clubs where they play little sex games,” he grinned but the smile hadn’t quite reached his eyes. “This kink stuff is just a game though and I don’t think you understand that.” 

She opened her mouth to object but he held a hand up, stopping her. “If you really want to play games, go play games with your girlfriends. Our sex life is going to be for adults, not silly little girls.”

Disappointment was written all over her face, she could tell. “It could help me to… To finish...” she offered, one last ditch attempt to win him round.

He laughed cruelly, breaking any physical contact between them getting up to leave, clearly done with their conversation. “If you can’t come,” he pointed at her, his eyes cold. “That’s on you.”

Two weeks later, over dinner, she hesitantly suggested that she might try it with Ivy, trying to gauge his reaction. He had told her she could, after all. The need to please, to be controlled, to be worshipped and contained ate at her every day. It was all she could think about.

“Whatever will get you to shut up about it,” he had replied casually, not taking his eyes off the dinner she’d cooked for him.

“You’d seriously be okay if I had sex with Ivy?” Harley asked incredulously.

He brought the fingers to the bridge of his nose and pinched, clearly annoyed by her. “I’m not threatened by women. None of you can do what I can do. Go! Fuck Ivy! Swing from the fucking ceiling for all I care. You’ll always come home to me. Now, can I eat in peace?”

Harley nodded, letting it drop. That night she had silently vowed to thank him by making sure that she was there for him, whenever he needed. She would make sure that this _thing_ between her and Ivy would not stop her from being the perfect girlfriend.

Since then, things between them had become distant and slightly strained. Harley was spending more and more time alone, Puddin’ choosing to hang out with the guys instead of with her. She had brought it up, once, tried to tell him she felt lonely without him but he had just laughed and told her “boys will be boys!”

The memory of such a deep rejection made her feel sick but she knew Ivy would be mad if she didn’t eat anything after their play. She got up from the sofa and fixed herself some cereal. She ate alone in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, her mind unconsciously drifting to piercing green eyes and the way she felt when she was with Ivy. She had felt wanted, safe, contained, happy and satisfied. It was incredible. Harley hadn’t known it was possible to feel that good.

The guilt always followed, though. She hadn’t told Ivy about that part, about how every time she came home to him she wanted to crawl inside of herself for days, hating herself for feeling so damn good without him.

The hours passed as she mooched around their apartment, the TV on low in the background to drown out the silence. No matter how much she tried to stop them, her thoughts drifted to Ivy. What was she doing? Harley chuckled to herself. _Stupid question_. She would be in her greenhouse or she would be in bed. Other than the time they spent together, Harley didn’t think she did much of anything else besides her plant stuff and sleep.

The clock struck 2AM; he still hadn’t come home but she was exhausted. She crawled into their bed, reaching out to the spot where he slept and resting her arm there. Her last muddled thoughts before sleep were full of hope that he was having a good time with his friends. He was so tolerant of her, despite her flaws, he deserved to have a good time, even if she was sad she couldn’t be a part of it.

The next morning, Harley awoke to the sound of birds chirping outside the window. She blinked against the light shining in through the gap in the curtains and opened her eyes. The bed was empty. She rolled over and checked the clock; it turned out the morning was almost over. Maybe he’d passed out on the sofa?

She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stifled a groan, the guilt washing back over her as she remembered why her muscles hurt. She rubbed at her wrists and then at her eyes, getting up to go and find him.

She checked the kitchen, nothing. 

Living room, nothing. 

Bathroom, nothing.

He hadn’t come home.

She checked her phone, no messages. Not even one from Ivy, who usually checked in the morning after but this time, nothing. Her stomach fell, the black, dark empty feeling of being alone began to bleed through her, threatening to take over completely. The silence in the apartment was deafening. 

She took a bath to occupy her mind and soothe her muscles. She let herself just go through the motions of washing herself, drying herself, finding an outfit, putting it on, checking herself in the mirror before leaving to buy a cup of coffee from down the street.

Her standard order was for two: one for him and one for her. His and hers coffees. She was in there so often the barista started making her drinks while she was still in the queue, without her even having to ask, leaving them at the end of the counter for her to pick up. He smiled at her, took her money and told her to have a nice day.

As she walked back to the apartment, coffees steaming side-by-side in their carry tray, she tried to encourage the hope that he would be home by the time she got back. She convinced herself that he would be back soon, and repeated it to herself until she had a smile on her face again.

She fished in her pocket for her key as she rounded the corner to their front door, stopping when she realised that the door was already open. She was sure she had locked it. Gingerly, she pushed it open and walked in, body tense, ready to scald whoever was trying to rob them with the extra hot his and hers coffees.

She sagged with relief when she found him on the sofa, his green hair shining in the morning sun.

“Puddin’!” she greeted him cheerily, setting the coffees down.

“Where the fuck have you been?” his voice was quiet, ice cold. Her muscles tensed again involuntarily. Uh-oh, he was in a bad mood.

“Went out ta getcha coffee,” she replied softly, talking to the back of his head. “Didya have a good night?”

He stood and rounded on her and she smothered a gasp. He looked like shit. His collar was pulled up, his eyes were bloodshot, his shirt was ripped and he was grinding his teeth. Harley knew from experience to tread carefully, he was either still high or coming down, she could tell. Wordlessly, she took his coffee and handed it to him.

He took it from her and held it for a second, his hand shaking. The lid must have been slightly loose, a trickle of hot coffee spilling out onto his fingers. Out of nowhere he screamed “Ow that’s fucking hot! Dumb bitch!” 

Harley barely had time to duck as he threw the coffee at her head, missing her by mere inches. It hit the wall behind her and the lid flew off, coffee splashing everywhere. “See what you did!” he yelled, gesturing at the mess.

“Okay Puddin’,” she agreed, using as soft a voice as she could to try and placate him. “M’sorry, didn’t mean for it to hurt ya.”

He stumbled over the back of the sofa, staring her down like a wild animal. She managed to take a single breath before he punched her square in the face, knocking all the air out of her. She staggered back, hands immediately coming up to protect herself. “I’m sorry,” he parroted back, his voice mocking and squeaky. “I didn’t mean for it to hurt you.”

She backed up towards the kitchen, making sure she was a safe distance before straightening up again. The tears in her eyes welled up and fell without her permission. He stared at her, waiting for what, Harley didn’t know. The air around him smelled of alcohol and chemicals, nothing like what she remembered of the man she loved.

The air between them was tense. If it had been anyone else she would have beaten them to a bloody pulp by now, but not him. She couldn’t.

His face softened. “Hey,” he reached out to her, voice quiet, soothing. “Hey sexy, I’m sorry, c’mere.” Despite the voices in her head screaming not to, she took one slow, deliberate step towards him. He met her in the middle, pressing his nose to her burning cheek. “You had me worried, that’s all,” he tells her, rubbing the bridge of his nose against her face. It hurts and she winces but doesn’t say anything. He brings his arms around her and she freezes. “You know how I get when I worry about you.”

He moved his hands to Harley’s waist, slipping them under her shirt to touch her skin. He cared about her, that was all. They were both very emotional people, she rationalised to herself as he ran his hands up her back, trying to keep her breathing steady. They’d even talked about it before. So they were bound to end up in silly little fights and arguments. After all, that’s what a relationship was.

He began to undress her and she just... Let him. A part of her wanted to put up a fight, wanted to stop it, she didn’t feel like it but he would get mad, she knew. He kissed her as he did and she kissed him back, muscle memory alone carrying her through. Once she was naked, she reached up to push his jacket from him and take his shirt off, dropping them to the floor in a discarded heap. The taste in his mouth was putrid but there was no way she could tell him so, naturally as she could, she took a step back to breathe and opened her eyes.

This time, she couldn’t control the gasp that escaped her. His pale chest and neck were littered with angry red marks. She frowned a little, they weren’t bruises, she’d seen enough in her lifetime to know the difference.

They were hickeys and he was _covered_.

He gave her a smug smile and tilted her chin up so she had no choice but to look him in the eye. With a sharp sting it reminded her of Ivy’s tender touch from the day before. “You have your friends,” he whispered, his voice cold again and a smile on his face. “I have mine. Don’t be jealous if I have more than you.”

“But, you said-” she argued meekly, wrapping her arms around herself, suddenly very acutely aware she was naked and exposed.

“I smell double standards,” he interrupted in a sing-song voice.

“But it was your idea, and I asked ya, made sure you were okay, every time,” she protested, despite herself. She didn’t care if she got punched again. No physical pain could have been worse than this. “Ya knew what I was doing, ya told me to-”

“Are you saying that this is my fault?” he hissed, his tone tight and laced with fury. “I went out and had fun without _you_ because you went out and had fun without _me_. This is your fault.”

“I’m sorry, I-” she began, tears rolling down her cheeks, drowning in the realisation she hadn’t been enough. She had tried but he had found love somewhere else. She should only be his, they should only be for each other, nobody else, and she had ruined that by being selfish and impulsive. She tried to get closer to him, wanted to curl up inside of him, make him happy again. She wanted to fix them.

“Get off me,” he spat, pushing her away. “I don’t want to be near you. I’ll finish myself off in the shower.”

With that he strode right by her, shoving her against a wall with a sneer and storming into the bathroom.

Harley collapsed to the floor against the coffee-stained wall and sobbed. She had ruined everything. It was all her fault. She didn’t deserve to feel happy and safe. She didn’t deserve anything good at all because she was no good at all.

Her phone buzzed and she looked over at the pile of clothes it was buried in. She ignored it, but after a couple of moments curiosity got the better of her and she crawled over to it. She put her clothes back on first, thinking they would be able to protect her somehow, or at least hide how disgusting she was underneath them.

Frozen to the spot in her own apartment, she was unsure where she should sit, where she would be most safe. She reasoned that he would probably want to go to bed after he got out of the shower, so she curled up in the corner of the sofa and checked her phone.

1 New Message from: Pammy ♥

_Hey beautiful, how are you feeling this morning? You did so well yesterday, I’m so proud of you. Call me when you can? Xx_

Harley read the message. Then read it again. And again. Over and over until she thought she might be sick. Yesterday felt like a lifetime ago.

Harley fantasised about running to her, running to where she felt safe, warm and loved. Ivy hadn’t made her feelings a secret, not for a long time and Harley ached to be with her. Harley ached to be happy. She wanted it. She didn’t deserve it but she was desperate for it. She was desperate for anything Ivy could give her. 

Bottom line was she didn’t feel safe in her own home any more. She wanted to fix things with Puddin’ but she didn’t know how. She didn’t know if she could. She’d already ruined it, maybe for good.

And she would ruin it with Ivy, too. 

Glancing at the bathroom door she bit her lip and carefully typed out her reply.

 _can’t call 4 a while :c_ Her thumb hovered over the ‘Send’ button, the empty feeling in her chest stronger than ever. She added _miss u._ and hit send before she could change her mind.

The reply was almost instantaneous.

_What did he do? Are you safe?_

Harley tasted blood on her bitten lip, raising her fingers to brush over her bruising cheekbone, feeling the hot skin there. She decided to answer honestly.

_dunno_

Ivy’s reply was immediate.

_Come here._

Harley turned the screen off her phone and folded in on herself. She wouldn’t ruin things with Ivy that way. Ivy was too special.

Her phone buzzed again two minutes later.

_Harley? Tell me you’re on your way. Please._

She ignored the text, smothering the absolute truth inside of her that she wanted nothing more. 

Puddin’ would be out of the shower soon.

Her phone buzzed again and she sighed exasperatedly. Fantasising about running to Ivy gave her hope and it _hurt_.

 _Be a good girl and smell your hair for me_.

Harley frowned in surprise and confusion. That was, single-handedly the weirdest text she’d ever received but she was a sucker for doing what Ivy told her to. She reached up and took the end of one of her pigtails between her fingers. She held it under her nose and took a deep breath.

The familiar smell overtook her in an instant. She closed her eyes and was back at Ivy’s house in the bathtub. She clung desperately to the phantom sensation of being in her arms, being held close, her chin resting over her shoulder, their fingers locked together. She had been naked and warm, sated and safe. Pammy’s giggle had made the butterflies in her stomach dance. She wanted to hear that sound all the time, forever. She was so caring, so strong and when Harley was in her arms she felt like nothing would ever hurt her again.

 _what if i ruin everything?_ Harley typed then deleted the message.

 _r u sure u want me there?_ She deleted that one too. 

As she was considering what to reply, what the hell to do, she heard the water click off and Puddin’ step out of the shower, talking angrily to himself though she couldn’t make out the words. She felt vulnerable and scared.

In an instant, she knew. 

In a way, she had always known.

It was now or never.

She took a deep breath in through her nose, thumbed out her reply-

_i need u._

-and pressed send on her way out the door.


	3. The Fifteenth Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didn't read the last chapter because it was no fun? No problem! Basically, Joker has been abusing Harley for a while even though Harley tries to do nothing but make him happy. It culminated with him taking drugs, blaming her for literally everything he did wrong and hitting her so she took a chance and ran to Ivy.
> 
> Okay now you're all caught up!
> 
> Also a big thank you to Zimmerbaits for giving me The Big Feels™ with song recs while I was writing this.
> 
> PS. The thing they do during sex is called grounding. It's a real thing and it really works. I do it when I think I'm going to have a panic attack. Never thought I'd use it in porn, but there you go. Enjoy!

Ivy paced through her house, checking her phone every twenty seconds or so. She had tried to call Harley but it went straight to voicemail, had sent her texts with no reply. Harley’s last words whirled through her mind like a hurricane.

_i need u._

Where was she? Should Ivy go and find her? She didn’t even know where Harley lived this week, he was always moving them around. She ran a hand through her hair anxiously. Should she try and find her? What if Harley came to her and she wasn’t here? What if she was hurt and needed Ivy to rescue her? 

She screamed out of sheer frustration as she paced. It had been over half an hour since the last text came through and with every passing second she felt more and more like she was going to throw up.

If he had hurt her-

She balled up her fists, her anxiety and rage beginning to boil over. It felt like a deadly cocktail of adrenaline threatening to explode.

There was a quiet knock at the door and she had never moved so fast, vaulting down the stairs two at a time and throwing the door open. She visibly relaxed when she saw Harley, alone and alive and _here_.

“Hey Pammy, I- Woah...” Harley muttered weakly, leaning against the door frame, her arms wrapped around herself, her eyes wide, her cheeks stained with tears. “Ya look intense. Should I go?”

Harley wasn’t wrong. Ivy had run her hands through her own hair so much it had about four times its usual volume. 

“No,” she answered resolutely, taking a step back. “Come in.”

She let Harley walk into the light of the hallway and toe off her shoes. It took one look at her for her to see it; she gasped loudly. 

Harley tilted her head, a silent question.

“Your eye,” Ivy hissed.

“Oh yeah, that,” Harley grimaced shyly, a hand reflexively coming up to hide it. It broke Ivy’s heart.

“He did this to you,” Ivy stated, her tone laced with venom. 

Harley flinched and Ivy had just enough self-control to stop herself from going nuclear. Her fury was justified but it wasn’t what Harley needed right now. She forced herself to stay calm.

“Harley, what happened?” she asked softly.

“He… I…” Harley took a shuddering breath, her eyes growing wild with panic.

Ivy didn't know if she should touch her, but she needed Harley to know she was there. She reached a hand out slowly, carefully, allowing space for Harley to move away if she needed to. Her hand came to rest on Harley’s shoulder, watching her closely for any kind of reaction; her touch stayed still and firm, calming her, grounding her.

Harley crumbled.

She stepped into Ivy’s space, shaking, and clutched at her shirt. Her shoulders shook as she began to cry huge, gulping sobs. Ivy wrapped her arms around her, pressing her nose to the top of Harley’s hair, holding her tight as she cried.

“Shh, you’re safe,” Ivy whispered into her hair, keeping her close. “I got you, it’s okay. You’re going to be okay.”

They stood there like that for minutes. Harley began babbling, mumbling half-words into her chest but Ivy couldn’t make out what she was saying. She leaned back a little, trying to give Harley more room to speak, room to breathe, but Harley’s grip in her shirt tightened.

“Hey, hey, talk to me?” Ivy tried gently.

“ _I need you_ ,” Harley replied, loud and desperate. She looked surprised at the ferocity of her own words. Her face crumbled again and a fresh wave of tears fell down her cheeks.

“I’m here,” Ivy reassured her again, lightly stroking her back. 

Harley looked up at her, letting go of her shirt to swipe at a stray tear. Ivy offered her a reassuring smile; she looked so miserable, so lost. They held eye contact, Ivy bringing a hand up to cup her jaw gently. Though the gesture itself was innocent enough, Harley's eyes grew dark, clearly thinking of other things. In the next breath she had dropped to her knees and was nosing at Ivy’s stomach.

“Honey, what are you-” Ivy started as Harley slid a hand up the inside of her thigh. “Do you really think that’s a good idea?” she asked, voice trembling.

“Yes,” she confirmed without hesitation.

“I-” Ivy’s hands rested lightly in Harley’s hair, petting her reassuringly. She didn’t know what to say. Harley was upset and vulnerable but she _wanted this_. Ivy had always given her what she wanted.

Harley looked up at her imploringly, reaching up to take Ivy’s hand in hers. Gently, she separated Ivy’s fingers and took the middle one into her mouth, sucking on it and flicking the pad of Ivy’s fingertip with her tongue, her eyes fluttering closed because she _liked it_. 

“Jesus, Harley,” Ivy let out a breathy moan and tore her eyes away.

“Please,” Harley begged weakly, letting her finger go. “Ya make me feel good, Red. C'mon. Play with me.”

Ivy took a step back, leaning against the wall behind her, her head falling back against it with a soft thump. She looked at the ceiling, taking a breath, trying to compose herself. Looking at Harley wasn’t helping right now. When those blue eyes wanted something from her, she would do anything, give anything.

She felt Harley’s fingers intertwine with her own and looked down. Harley was still on her knees and was staring at their joined hands, her eyes finally free of tears. She marvelled at their interlocked fingers like she was seeing it for the first time.

“C'mon,” Ivy agreed finally, lifting their joined hands so Harley got to her feet. She could think about it all she wanted but the cold hard truth was that Ivy didn’t have the willpower to deny her anything.

Ivy led her up the stairs and into her bedroom, never once letting go of her hand. They stood by the edge of the bed and Ivy stopped, unsure. She hadn’t thought up anything for them this time. Usually there was some advanced notice and planning on her part; she wasn’t very good at improvising. 

Harley bowed her head, waiting for an instruction, waiting for Ivy to take the lead. Despite everything, she was trying to keep control over herself. Good girl. 

It was more self-control than Ivy had, at any rate.

"Look at me," Ivy whispered, desperate to see her eyes, to make sure she wasn't crying.

Harley lifted her head and licked her lips, her eyes fluttering to down to Ivy’s own and watching them as Ivy quirked a small smile.

She looked back up slowly and she leaned in. With all the tenderness she held in her heart, Ivy closed the distance. 

They had kissed before, a handful of times, out of happiness, out of relief, out of excitement, but nothing like this. It was tentative at first, just simple contact of their lips until Harley pushed closer, parting to let her in. The kiss was slow, languid, comforting. Ivy put her hand on the bottom of Harley’s back and let her dictate the pace.

It wasn’t long before Harley’s breathing began to speed up. Ivy couldn’t tell whether Harley was turned on or still upset. It was probably a mix of both. She frowned, pulling away, “Harl, are you sure you wa-”

“Yes,” Harley insisted urgently, grasping the collar of Ivy’s shirt to keep her there. She sounded like she was losing patience. “I want this. I need you,” she repeated again like a mantra.

In an instant, Ivy knew what she was going to do.

“Get on the bed,” she commanded, walking over to the wardrobe while Harley scrambled up. Instead of reaching for their usual box of tricks, Ivy rifled through her summer wardrobe until she found what she was looking for: a long silk summer scarf. 

She crawled back up onto the bed to settle between Harley’s legs. She ran the soft scarf through her fingers, showing Harley what they’d be using. 

“Lie down on your back, arms up.”

Harley did so immediately and Ivy hummed to show she was pleased. She leaned over her, taking each of Harley’s wrists in hand, starting the process of binding them to the headboard. Her wrists weren’t red any more but the left one had bruised a little.

“Harley, I want you to tell me five things you can see,” Ivy asked her, working slowly on purpose.

Harley frowned. “Why?”

Ivy looked down at her, red hair framing her face. “Excuse me, do you need a reason?”

Harley shook her head and smiled. “Um, okay. Your tits, kinda,” she giggled a little, trying to sit up. Ivy raised her eyebrows. "Okay, um." She looked up at what Ivy was doing, “your pretty scarf, an'...” She turned her head and wiggled around, looking for things. “The wardrobe, the window an'… A lamp?”

“Good,” Ivy praised, starting to work on her other wrist, placing it on top of the first and wrapping the scarf around it. “Now four things you can feel.”

“This silky scarf,” Harley bit her sore lip, trying to focus. “The soft bed, your knees against my legs an'…” Her cheeks flushed pink as she mumbled the last one “...and the throbbing between my legs.”

She was so adorable Ivy thought she might _actually_ die.

“Good,” she smiled, using her thumb to gently pull Harley’s bottom lip from between her teeth so she would stop chewing on it. She sat back to survey her work, Harley’s wrists bound above her head. “Now three things you can hear.”

Harley looked confused. “I don’t hear three things.”

“We can wait,” Ivy told her. Harley wriggled in place, impatient.

“Your voice?” she suggested after a beat and Ivy nodded, giving her encouragement by stroking her thigh. “Okay, um, and- Birds?” Ivy nodded again and moved her hand a little higher up the inside of Harley’s thigh. “And-” Harley gasped, straining to hear something else, _anything_ else. “Is that- The fridge?”

Ivy tilted her head and listened. Sure enough, she heard the very distant rumble of her old fridge whirring from downstairs.

“Very good,” she praised, pushing her hand a little higher but changing its trajectory at the last second, moving to squeeze Harley’s hip. Harley whined, actually _whined_ , writhing in place.

“Red, please,” she begged.

“We’re not done yet,” Ivy told her. “Now two things you can smell.”

Harley took a long deep breath in through her nose. She turned her head to the side so she could smell one of her pigtails. “My hair?” she suggested, earning a rewarding swipe of Harley’s thumb across her hip bone. “And fresh cotton.” As another reward, Ivy’s hand swept across the narrow stripe of exposed skin; it made Harley hiss with want.

“Very good,” Ivy praised, revelling in how responsive she was. “Last one, then we’re done. Tell me one thing you can taste?”

Harley blinked slowly, then smiled. “You,” she replied simply.

“Smooth,” Ivy chuckled in a desperate attempt to hide how happy that made her. She crawled up Harley’s body to bring their lips together in another kiss. 

Almost immediately, Harley arched her back underneath her, seeking more. Her breathing had slowed and Ivy hummed into her mouth with delight, putting her hands on Harley’s sides to hold her still.

Satisfied that she was okay, Ivy broke their kiss to place light kisses on her jaw, then down to her neck, the tip of her collarbone peeking out from underneath her shirt. Her hands stroked lower down Harley’s sides as she kissed down her chest, hooking her thumbs in the waistband of her underwear and pants, a silent question.

Harley dug her heels into the bed in response, lifting up to allow her to continue. Once she had pulled them off her ankles, Ivy sat back and dropped the discarded clothing to the side before resuming her kisses, starting at her lower stomach and moving lower still. 

It was at that moment that Harley finally understood what she was planning to do. “Ohh fuck,” she gasped. 

Making her lose it like this was Ivy’s favourite thing in the world. She chuckled, kissing the tops of Harley’s thighs and using her hands to push them apart. She shuffled back and lay on her front, planting kisses at the top of each of Harley’s inner thighs, making her writhe and gasp.

“Keep still, baby,” Ivy cooed. “Keep still and you’ll get what you want.”

Harley tried, she really did, her thighs shaking with need as Ivy planted soft kisses on the delicate spot between her legs. It wasn’t enough, she knew, but she needed to keep all of Harley’s focus on her, even if she looked like she was going to explode.

“Fu-uck,” Harley moaned again, her hands balled up into fists, canting her hips towards Ivy’s mouth. “Please,” she begged. “I’m gonna die here- _Please_.” 

Ivy had no choice but to give her what she wanted, her eyes fluttering closed at the first sweet taste.

In the forefront of her mind she knew that sex had always been a release for Harley; she liked it most with hair pulling and teeth. She liked it raw and intense because that’s how she always felt. She had spent her whole life feeding off emotions, she was fuelled by them, smothered by them, she ran from them and she let them eat her alive. 

But being with Ivy – doing what they did – had helped her to forget about it all for a little while and focus on feeling _good_. It was why they kept coming back together, to this, to being wrapped up in one another in Ivy’s bed. She trusted Ivy to give her what she wanted and – to Ivy – giving Harley what she wanted was as natural as breathing.

Pressing her tongue against Harley’s clit, she revelled in the feeling of it throbbing in her mouth. This time wouldn’t be rough, whether Harley wanted that or not. She was tied up, sure, but Ivy needed to ground her, needed her to focus. 

She had been beaten, rejected and hurt and Ivy needed her to feel nothing but love.

She was uncharacteristically gentle, licking long, slow stripes through her, over and over. Harley’s moans were urgent, needy and relentless. She was desperate for more, something, anything.

“Oh God _Pamela_ ,” Harley gasped when she hit a particular spot. Ivy almost didn’t hear it, interspersed between all the other noises she was making. 

Harley had never used her name during sex; they’d decided that months ago to try and keep their friendship separate from this. Hearing it made something in Ivy’s chest burst into a million pieces.

“God there, yes, right there-” Harley’s back arched and Ivy looked up. She was caught up in the sensation, oblivious to how Ivy was feeling, her messed up blonde hair a halo around her head. Ivy was too far gone, a total lost cause.

Her chest tightened as she felt Harley swell against her face. She was really close now, Ivy could tell; she had learned Harley’s body and what it needed. She slipped two fingers inside of her, earning her a high-pitched moan of surprise.

“Oh God, oh fuck yeah, Red, yes- _Ah_!” Harley half-screamed as she came just seconds later, tightening around Ivy’s fingers. Ivy stilled her hand and slowed her tongue, helping her to ride the wave, a moan trapped in the back of her throat as her taste changed.

“Hey,” Harley panted as she came down, sinking back into the bed, unable to control the smile on her face. “Ya broke the you-first rule.”

“Hm,” Ivy nodded in agreement, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, a little surprised that Harley had even noticed. “Seems I did.” 

She got up to untie Harley, who sat up the second she was free. “Where d'ya want me?” she asked, reaching out to touch Ivy’s thigh.

Ivy didn’t know whether saying her name had been a mistake - just a slip-up in the heat of the moment - but it had flicked a switch inside of her and there was no going back. It had given her a glimpse into what she really wanted and she knew that she couldn’t keep this up. This thing between them had gotten too real a long time ago and she was struggling to keep her head above water.

She had to do it for her own sanity.

“Vanilla,” Ivy replied sadly, not meeting Harley’s eyes. 

Neither of them had used their safeword before. It had been an in-joke between them when they made it up, half-drunk the first time. “Vanilla sex'd put anyone off,” Harley had laughed. God, Ivy missed her laugh. 

She hated herself just that little bit more when she chanced a look at Harley’s crestfallen expression.

“Y'okay?” She sounded nervous.

“I… I don’t think I can do this any more, Harls.” Ivy looked down at her own lap, defeated.

“What?” Harley looked like she was going to cry again. God, Ivy would never forgive herself for this. It was the worst possible timing but she had to be honest with her now, or she never would.

“I… I love you,” Ivy admitted, not quite making eye contact. “I’m in love with you, Harley. I think would die to make you happy but… I don’t want to kill myself trying.”

Ivy took a breath. She had replayed this moment in her head a thousand times but never once had she thought standing up for herself would feel this awful. She carried on, closing her eyes.

“Every single time we’ve been together has been... Incredible. And you’re happy here with me - I know you are - right up until you leave,” she sighed, staring at her hands. “I can’t carry on watching you destroy yourself with him while I wait here to pick up the pieces.”

Silence stretched between them. Ivy felt sick.

“Yeah, well, don’t think I can go back to him now,” Harley said finally. She sounded as defeated as Ivy felt.

“You know he’s garbage anyway,” she reasoned, trying to keep her voice level, her anger threatening to bubble over again.

“It’s not his fault,” Harley deflated. She looked small and broken. “I ruined everything.”

“No, you haven’t." Ivy had to swallow her anger, again. "Look, I don’t know what happened but I do know it cannot be your fault. You'd do anything for the people you care about. It’s one of the things I love about you,” Ivy chuckled at herself as she planted a kiss in Harley’s hair. “And he hit you,” she leaned over to get a closer look at Harley’s cheekbone, bruises blossoming along it like dead roses. She only shrugged in response and Ivy bit back a growl. “Honey, listen to me, okay? He _hit you_ , nothing you could have possibly done is bad enough that you would deserve that.”

“Why are you always so good to me?” Harley asked innocently, changing the subject.

Ivy didn’t need to think about it. “I love you,” she repeated honestly. “All I want is for you to be happy. But-” Ivy took a shuddering breath, surprised as the next words formulated in her mind. “-I don’t know if I can be your consolation prize.” 

They looked at one another for a moment, both scrambling to find the right words. 

Ivy took Harley’s hand in hers. “I think we need to take a break from this for a little while. Is that okay?”

Harley nodded and brought her knees to her chest, pulling her hand from Ivy’s, her eyes welling up again. Ivy honestly felt like shit. She searched for something else to say, something that could make it better without compromising her own feelings. Harley looked lost, staring into space and she didn’t know what to do. Their world, their safe escape, was crashing down around them.

A loud banging on the front door made them both jump. Harley froze and looked at her in abject terror. Ivy had never seen her look like that before, nothing like the sweet, confident Harley she knew.

And something inside of her just _snapped_.

“Hide if you want, sweetheart,” she soothed. “I’ll take care of it.”

With purpose in her step, she walked to the front door and swung it open, completely unsurprised to see a pale, scrawny boy of a man with green hair and purple jeans standing on her doorstep.

“Ragweed!” he threw his arms up in greeting. “So very, very nice to see you.” Ivy’s jaw clenched and she folded her arms. “Do get Harley for me, would you?”

“Harley isn’t here,” she sneered, looking down at him.

“We both know she is,” he replied in a sing-song voice. God he was fucking annoying. “See, I went for a shower earlier today… And she decided to skip out on me! Can you believe it? I got out and she was just… Gone!” Ivy wondered how good it would feel to choke the life out of him. “She’s a handful is our Harley,” he carried on, oblivious. “You’ve got to watch her. I mean, she’s a rascal! You can’t take your eyes off her for five seconds-”

“What do you want?” she interrupted him tersely.

“Harley!” he yelled, his fury bleeding through the forced smile. Ivy wasn’t scared of him.

“She. Isn’t. Here.” Harley punctuated through gritted teeth.

“You can’t protect her, you know,” he told her, shaking a finger barely an inch from her face. “I mean you can _try_ , if you’re one of these people who like to waste their time, but I’ll get her back from you.” Ivy fantasised about grabbing his finger and snapping it off. 

“She’s a sweet little thing though,” he mused as an afterthought. “Perhaps I’ll let you keep your candy today. Enjoy her while you can.” He winked at her, his smile as sick as he was. 

In the blink of an eye, Ivy straight up kicked him in the balls as hard as she could.

He screamed in surprise and in pain, his grin disappearing in an instant as he doubled-over and grunted.

“Go. Away.” Ivy growled, her knuckles white.

“I’ll… Get her back… You fucking… _Whore_ …” he wheezed, trying to catch his breath, stumbling down the garden path.

“Yeah? I’d like to see you try!” she shouted after him as he limped away.

Satisfied he wouldn’t be coming back for at least the rest of the evening, since he was late for a date with a bag of frozen peas, she shut the door, locked it and tested the handle before going back upstairs to her bedroom.

But Harley was nowhere to be seen. Ivy looked around, confused, until her eyes fell on her wardrobe and she smiled. The wardrobe door was ajar. She opened it to find Harley hiding in there on the floor, rifling through her box of tricks.

“Hey Red, you got a _lot_ of sex toys in here,” she remarked lightly. “Do ya have some kinda discount or was it a buy-one-get-twenty-free kinda deal?”

Classic Harley, deflecting emotional pain with humour.

“You heard everything, huh?” Ivy asked softly, kneeling down beside her.

Harley just nodded, shoulders beginning to shake as her tears fell again.

“I don’t want to go back to him,” she whispered quietly and Ivy blinked, stunned. She couldn’t imagine how much strength it must have taken for Harley to admit that. "I will, though, if it means I don’t hurt ya.”

Ivy put her arms around Harley’s waist and gently pulled her out of the wardrobe, holding her tight on the bedroom floor. “You’re not going anywhere,” she confirmed adamantly, feeling Harley relax in her arms. “Feelings are stupid, Harls. We’ll work this out. You’re my best friend. Don’t worry about the rest. I’ll keep you safe.”

“Mm,” Harley turned her head into Ivy’s neck.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Ivy repeated, rocking them both gently, filled completely with nothing but fierce protective love.

They would work it out. Somehow.


	4. The First Step

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am having so much fun writing this. Thank you to everyone who's taken the time to leave a comment or kudos, I appreciate it more than you know. ♥
> 
> There's one chapter left and an epilogue I've already written when it wormed its way into my brain and would not let go.
> 
> Buckle up! It's about to get _cute_.

It had been three weeks since Puddin’ had last showed up and Harley hadn’t gone back to him yet. She hadn’t been away from him this long in… Forever. She still missed him though. Kind of. Sometimes. 

Living with Ivy had been so much better than she had hoped for. They had fallen into a routine pretty quickly and it worked for them both. As she suspected, Ivy spent the majority of her time in her greenhouse, tending to all her plants. Harley kept herself busy during the day, mostly mooching around the house and occasionally going to see if Ivy needed anything like food or water. She could single-handedly take care of a small jungle but it turned out she was _really bad_ at taking care of herself. No matter, Harley could do that for her.

But in the back of Harley’s mind she was still waiting for something to give. She was going to screw it up, it was only a matter of time. She tried not to think about it too much. 

She loved evenings the most. Evenings with Puddin’ had been tense or lonely, but once the sun had gone down and all of Ivy’s plants had been put to bed, they would curl up on opposite ends of the couch under the same throw and eat dinner in front of a movie. 

Harley had left all her clothes at Puddin’s when she bailed, so she had to wear Ivy’s. They were all a little big on her but she didn’t mind. The _Say Aloe to My Little Friend_ t-shirt was secretly her favourite and she wore it every chance she got. 

Ivy had offered to take her shopping for new clothes of her own, but she hadn’t wanted to go. She argued it was because she didn’t have much of her own money, since Puddin’ held on to it all and she didn’t want Ivy to buy a whole new wardrobe just for her. She felt bad for lying, but the truth was that Harley didn’t feel safe enough to go into the city, even if Ivy was with her. With all those people, he could be anywhere, hiding in plain sight. She wanted to stay inside, where it was safe, for just a little while longer. Besides, wearing Ivy’s clothes felt nice; they all smelled like her.

Neither one of them had brought up that day since it had happened or Ivy’s confession. A part of Harley was kind of grateful. She loved Ivy, she knew she did - Ivy was really beautiful and kind and so good to her, way more than she deserved – but some days it was difficult to wrap her head around the fact that her and Puddin’ were maybe over. She didn’t want to lose Ivy too. 

When had everything become so complicated?

One evening, after dinner, Ivy had gone back into the greenhouse to finish up some notes. Harley’s mind was swimming so, in an effort to force it to shut up, she pushed back the coffee table and practised her gymnastics training on the living room floor. 

She had stopped going to classes months ago, since her Puddin’ had hated coming home to an empty apartment, so some flexibility had been lost. She was going to work really hard to get it back. 

Warming up, she remembered the gymnastics classes she’d taken as a little kid. Her dad used to drop her off and go out drinking with his buddies, promising to her mom that he had watched her the whole time. Sometimes she waited for hours, after all the other kids had been picked up, for him to come for her, even if it was raining. Her mom never found out, or if she did, she didn’t say anything. The classes were fun, though. Gymnastics helped her to see things clearly and it gave her confidence, too, because she was damn good at it.

Lying on her back on the living room floor, she stretched her arms over her head, lifted her legs high in the air and held the position. Once she was comfortable, she pulled her hips off the floor, rolling back to lift her back off the floor too, balancing on her shoulders and using her legs to counterbalance by bringing her feet to her hands. Her fingers curled around her toes, her feet resting comfortably in her palms as she stared her own knees. She held that position, inhaling and exhaling deeply, holding like she had been taught, before bringing her legs back down slowly and sitting up. She raised her head and saw Ivy stood in the doorway, staring at her.

“Oh hey,” she beamed. “Just doin’ some stretches before bed.” She pat the floor next to her. “Wanna try?”

“Uh, I’m pretty sure I can’t bend that way,” Ivy remarked, her voice cracking. She cleared her throat. “I… Uh… Gotta go to bed. Big day tomorrow.” Harley frowned. Big day? Why? “Plant stuff,” she supplied helpfully. Harley smiled.

“Okay. Night Pammy,” she answered cheerfully, spreading her legs and bending to kiss one of her knees, completely missing the way Ivy swore under her breath before practically running up the stairs.

She finished up with her stretches and made a happy noise, feeling loose and good. Maybe it was this house, she thought, maybe it just had good vibes or something.

It was getting kind of late, she acknowledged, so she decided to take herself up to bed too. She passed by Ivy’s closed door on the way to her new bedroom. Ivy’s spare room had been pretty bare when she moved in, just a bed, an old side-table, one small bookcase filled with Ivy's dusty old books and a chest of drawers with a broken handle. She had drawn a bunch of pictures of her favourite things and put them up on the walls so she could make it her own. The one photo she did have was of her and Ivy, taken last summer, pinned on the wall by her pillow. She had stolen it from the fridge; Ivy hadn’t seemed to mind.

She crawled under the covers and snuggled down, closing her eyes. Her thoughts drifted to the prettiest flowers in Ivy’s greenhouse. She tried to remember all her favourites and counted them as she slowly fell to sleep.

_The plants morph into to green hair and red lips, his face laughing in the darkness. She’s in a forest but none of the trees have leaves. Everything is black and grey and acid green._

_His disembodied face disappears into the shadows. She feels like she’s falling and all she can hear is his cruel laughter. She tries to get up, tries to run but she can’t move. A hand extends from the darkness and grabs her by the neck, fingernails drawing blood._

_He has her now._

_She tries to shake him off, to scream, but when she opens her mouth all she hears from her own throat is his laugh. Hopelessness seeps into every pore and tears stream down her face as he laughs through her._

_She wants Ivy, wants to run to her, but Ivy isn’t there._

_She can’t move._

_And all the trees are dead._

She woke up with a start, slapping a hand to her mouth to stop herself from screaming. A stray beam of moonlight shone in through her window, illuminating the cold sweat on her pale skin. She shrank back from the dark corners of the room, half-expecting him to appear and drag her back into the darkness with him. In a desperate attempt to hide, she curled up and pulled the covers over her head, terrified and trying not to cry. It was just a nightmare, she told herself, it wasn’t real.

Then why didn’t she feel safe?

Taking a deep breath, she summoned all the courage she had and emerged from under the covers. She stood up and tiptoed out of her room. The hallway was silent, save for the soft ticking of a clock on the wall. Harley walked quickly, feather light on her feet, and pushed the door of Ivy’s room open.

“Pammy?” she whispered, poking her head around the door. Ivy didn’t even stir. She had one arm thrown up over her head and her mouth was slightly open; she was clearly in a deep sleep and Harley didn’t have the heart to wake her. 

But she couldn’t be alone.

Nervously shuffling in Ivy’s doorway, she thought about crawling under the covers with her. No, she didn’t deserve something so special. She had a nightmare, she shouldn’t take up space in Ivy’s bed and make her suffer for it. That wasn’t fair.

She looked back at the door of her own room and the darkness beyond it, still frightened.

After what felt like a lifetime of indecision, she crawled onto the foot of Ivy’s bed and curled up there, on top of the covers, resting her head on one of Ivy’s calves. Close enough. She could sleep here.

“Night night,” she whispered sweetly, even though she knew Ivy couldn’t hear her.

A couple of hours later, she was woken by a startled shout and her comfy pillow being rudely ripped from underneath her.

“Harley?” Ivy blinked in the darkness, reaching over to turn her bedside lamp on. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I had a nightmare,” she explained sadly.

“Okay,” she softened, rubbing one of her eyes. “But why are you on my bed?”

“M’sorry,” Harley hung her head. “I’ll go back to my room now.” She sat up and began to shuffle off the bed.

“No, that’s not-” Ivy started, but was too tired to explain herself. With a noise of frustration, she reached for Harley’s fingers with one hand and pulled back the covers with her other one. “Come _here_.”

“You sure?”

Ivy tugged her hand a little harder in response.

Harley did her best to swallow the relief she felt, sheepishly crawling under the covers with her. Ivy wrapped her arms around her and rested her nose on the back of Harley’s neck. “You wanna leave the light on?” she offered quietly, her lips in Harley’s hair.

She thought about it for a moment, mutely realising that she didn’t need light when she knew Ivy would protect her from the dark. She answered by reaching up to flick the switch, the synthetic light of the lamp gone in an instant. Settling back into Ivy’s arms, she pushed back against her, grateful and happy. Her eyes were barely closed before she fell back to sleep.

The next morning, Harley woke early because she was _warm_. She blinked sluggishly, the light of the morning was far too bright as it streamed in through Ivy’s bedroom window. Ivy still had one arm around her and was curled up against her back. She wondered, sadly, how long it had been since she had woken up in someone else’s arms. She couldn’t remember. If she lay in bed a little longer than she usually did, pretending to be asleep and enjoying being held, nobody would ever know.

Once guilt started to creep into her consciousness, she carefully extracted herself, tiptoeing out of Ivy’s room and padding down the hallway to the stairs. Coffee. She needed _coffee_. It was far too early for this many feelings.

As she walked past the front door on the way to the kitchen she noticed an envelope on the mat. It definitely hadn’t been there when she had gone to bed. There was no post mark, no address, just two words scrawled across the front in messy purple writing: 

_Harley Quinn_

She stopped in her tracks, her stomach tying itself up in knots. She would recognise that writing anywhere. With shaking hands, she bent to pick it up and open it, glancing up the stairs to make sure Ivy wasn’t awake yet.

Inside of the envelope was a white card with the same messy purple writing. All it said was _I’m waiting_.

She took one, long shuddering breath and put the card back in the envelope. He had been here. Again. He must have been. In the middle of the night. 

And he was waiting for her.

As she walked into the kitchen the knots in her stomach tightened at the thought of him being alone and sad without her. Maybe he needed her? After all, nobody else knew him like she did. Nobody else knew all his secrets, his hopes and dreams, his biggest fears. He had such a hard time opening up to anyone but, all those years ago, he had opened up to her. Surely that had to count for something? 

She finished making her coffee and sighed, leaning against the kitchen counter. The envelope stared up at her from the kitchen surface accusatorily. She took a sip and bowed her head. Maybe it was time she gave him another chance? Ivy had warned him, after all. Maybe he would be better now?

Almost on cue, she heard steps coming down the stairs. She hastily grabbed the envelope and shoved it in a drawer before reassuming her position against the counter.

“Morning!” she greeted, sounding overtly cheerful as Ivy walked in. “Want some coffee?”

Ivy narrowed her eyes suspiciously for a brief moment then nodded, walking over wordlessly to pour herself a cup. Oh God, was Ivy mad at her? The knots in her stomach pulled tight and it hurt. Of course Ivy was mad at her; Harley had left her to wake up all alone when Ivy had been so nice to her after her nightmare. She cursed herself silently. What the hell was wrong with her? How did she manage to fuck up every single relationship she had with anyone?

“Did you sleep okay?” Ivy asked her cautiously, leaning on the counter next to her. 

There it was, it always started with passive-aggressive comments. Harley tensed up, preparing herself for what was to come next.

“Yeah,” she replied stiffly.

“Do you want to talk about the nightmare?” she pressed gently.

“No,” Harley snapped, immediately wincing at her own tone. “Thanks.”

Ivy gave her a single nod, raising her eyebrows. Harley watched out of the corner of her eye as she took another sip of coffee.

They stood there for another few moments, drinking their coffees in awkward silence. Harley stared at the brown liquid, wondering whether if it hadn’t been for that coffee, whether she’d still be with Puddin’ now, whether he would be happy.

“I’ll be in the greenhouse if you need me,” Ivy announced finally, taking the mug with her. Her tone was kind enough but Harley knew what that meant. _I don’t want to be around you all the time, Harley._ Puddin’ had said the same thing to her, too.

The moment Ivy left the room, Harley retrieved the letter and shoved it in the waistband of her pants.

She tried to do some gymnastics exercises to clear her head but, even after a couple of hours, they didn’t help. So she tried to do those yoga poses she’d seen people do on TV, even though they all had stupid names. They didn’t help either. The knots were loosening but there was a gnawing feeling in her gut she couldn’t shake. She pulled at her own hair in frustration, her eyes falling to Ivy’s spot on the sofa, and sighed. Resigned, she stood and made her way towards the greenhouse.

She knocked on the door and waited for Ivy’s voice before walking in. The heat and humidity hit her like a wave. Ivy’s greenhouse was breathtaking; it smelled of honey, earth and rain, just like her. Ivy was working at her desk, as usual, tending to some smaller plants as she stood between behemoths that lived in pots so big Harley could fit into one with room to spare.

“Hey,” Ivy greeted her from over her shoulder, giving her a smile.

“Hey,” Harley mumbled, sidling up to her and looking at her feet. “Listen, m’sorry about this mornin’,”’ she offered, wincing slightly.

“That’s okay,” Ivy assured her, shaking the loose soil from her gloves as she took them off and set them down. She turned to face Harley and leant back against her desk. “Do you want to talk about it?” she asked, her voice soft.

Harley did, but she didn’t know how. She didn’t know how to tell Ivy she was considering leaving, that the guilt for leaving Puddin’ too long had been chewing on her heartstrings. She couldn’t find the words. Instead, she pulled the note out of her waistband and handed it to her.

Frowning, Ivy took it, opened the envelope and scoffed.

“Where did you get this?” she inquired, her voice measured and level.

“Found it on the doormat this mornin’,” Harley admitted, unable to meet her eyes. The paper crinkled as Ivy’s grip tightened.

“What do you think?” Ivy asked, keeping the same careful, measured tone.

“I… I dunno,” Harley shrugged, feeling dumb.

“Can you do something for me?” she sounded serious.

“Anythin’,” Harley promised, meeting her eyes, hoping for a way to redeem herself.

“Give it a few days before you make a decision? You can be kind of impulsive sometimes and it’s one of the best things about you but… You need to consider this,” Ivy told her earnestly, handing the envelope back to her. “You owe that to yourself.”

Harley nodded in agreement, then frowned, playing with it between her fingers. “Why didn’t ya just tell me to set it on fire?”

Ivy chuckled, but it was a hollow sound. “When has that ever worked before?” she replied with a half-smile.

Harley gave her a nod, shrugging. “Thanks,” she mumbled, turning to leave.

“Hey Harl,” Ivy called after her. Harley turned and Ivy pointed to herself, then to Harley and back. “We’re okay, yeah? Remember that. No matter what happens.”

Harley nodded, smiling, the knots in her stomach finally free as she walked back into the house. The living room, in comparison, was blissfully cool. Harley threw herself down on the sofa, all set to watch some cartoons.

A few hours later, Coyote still hadn’t caught the Roadrunner, but Harley had laughed herself stupid and almost forgotten about that morning entirely. She shifted on the sofa and something poked at her stomach.

Oh right, she thought. That.

Chewing on her lip, she picked up the envelope again and looked at the note. She must have read it a hundred times until the words lost all meaning. 

Ivy was still in her greenhouse, where she had been all day. 

Harley had promised to make a decision in a few days. She turned over the note in her fingertips, thinking. She would stay there for a few more days, sure, but maybe she could still talk to him? Talking to him wouldn’t break her promise, right?

Feeling oddly guilty, she climbed the stairs and slunk into her bedroom, shutting the door behind her. Forcing herself to breathe steadily, she picked her phone up from where it lay ignored on the bedside table. She knew his number by heart; she had never been allowed to save it in her phone in case she lost it and the police found it. She typed it in before she could change her mind and her thumb hovered over the green call button. It seemed to goad her into pressing it. She just wanted to know he was okay. Why did she feel like she was going to throw up?

She hit the call button and the phone rang.

Twice. It rang twice. A new voicemail message started playing:

“You’ve reached the J-J-J-Joker!” The phone blared. “I’m out having fun!” There was a smack in the background and a girl’s laugh. It definitely wasn’t Harley. “Come find me!” 

_Beep_.

Harley opened her mouth to talk but found she had lost the ability to speak. The voicemail message had knocked what little confidence she had and she realised, with a jolt of white hot anger, she didn’t want him to call her back.

She hung up and threw her phone at the wall like she was pitching a baseball. It smashed with a satisfying crack sending pieces of snapped plastic cascading to the floor. The only person she really wanted to see, the only person she really wanted to talk to, was in this house. She didn’t need a fucking phone.

She stormed downstairs and almost ran headlong into Ivy who was rounding the bottom of the stairs at high speed, still in her lab coat and gloves.

“What was that noise?” she asked, sounding panicked. “Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?”

Harley shook her head; she didn’t want to talk about it. “It’s nothing,” she deflected, forcing a brightness to her tone. “Hey! Can I make dinner tonight?” She liked cooking, it commanded her full attention. She wasn’t very good at it, but she liked to try.

“Sure,” Ivy agreed, letting it drop, a relieved smile on her face. “I look forward to it.” She turned around and groaned, gesturing towards the hallway. “Would you look at that? I’ve trailed soil through the house _again_ ,” she complained, wiping her forehead with her arm.

Harley tensed and chewed her lip. “I can clean it up before I make dinner?” she suggested, hoping Ivy wasn’t going to be mad.

Ivy gave her a weird look. “Or...” she said slowly. “I can clean it up, because I made the mess, and you can make dinner, because your cooking is delicious?”

Harley smiled at that, relieved, nodding in agreement. She skipped past Ivy towards the kitchen, making sure to avoid the patches of soil that led all the way down the hallway and back to the greenhouse.

An hour later and dinner was taking way longer than she thought it would and the knots were starting to tangle again. Ivy was probably hungry, waiting for her, and Harley was letting her down. She was boiling potatoes and about to tend to the roasted vegetables in the oven when Ivy walked in.

Harley’s body tensed immediately. She was used to cooking alone, Puddin’ never once showed any interest. He only wanted the final product and reasons for why it took so long. Cooking was welcome space for her, having another presence in that space to watch her mess it up and do everything wrong set her teeth on edge.

“Dinner won’t be long,” she assured Ivy quickly, bracing herself. “Sorry, it’s this recipe-”

Ivy completely ignored her. She set her phone down on the counter and was playing with it. Harley stirred the potatoes, willing them to just _cook already_.

Music started playing from Ivy’s phone. Harley tilted her head, frowning in recognition. She _knew_ this song. It was some upbeat eighties cheesy pop anthem she used to listen to in her bedroom when she was a kid. She hadn’t heard it in years. She turned to say something but Ivy was… Dancing?

If you could call it dancing. She was shuffling her feet and doing this weird thing where she held her arms close to her chest and kind of wiggled them around. She wasn’t looking at Harley, she was just dancing like there was no-one else in the room. 

“What are you doing?” Harley wrinkled her nose, a slow grin spreading across her face.

Ivy completely ignored her again and began singing along instead, still dancing, shuffling her feet a little more. Harley stopped stirring the potatoes just to watch. She looked like such a dork and it made something inside Harley’s chest flutter. Ivy was really getting into the swing of it, wiggling her arms enthusiastically and shaking her hair to the beat of the music.

“You’re so weird,” Harley giggled.

With a wry smile, Ivy finally looked at her and began swaying in her direction, her hips following the beat. She took Harley’s hand and began gently pulling her to the centre of the kitchen, away from the cooker. Reluctantly, Harley let herself be led. Ivy took her other hand and entwined their fingers, leading Harley’s arms in her strange and uncoordinated dance.

At first, all Harley could think about was vegetables and how she didn’t want to screw up dinner like she screwed up her relationship and she was screwing up their friendship, but then Ivy lifted her hand and span her around, still singing, and when Ivy took her hand again her eyes were bright green and she was smiling and she was so damn _beautiful_. 

And all she wanted was for Harley to dance with her.

Harley tried to relax and let Ivy lead, copying that shuffling thing with her feet. There was no technique to it whatsoever, just two idiots shuffling around on a kitchen floor but it made Harley laugh. By the time the last chorus started playing she had given in to it completely; she even picked up some of the words and sung along.

When the song faded to an end, Ivy slowed their dancing and they stopped, stood still, holding each others' hands. She looked so happy, her eyes filled with pride. Harley’s stomach swooped as they looked at one another, her fingers tightening in their grip slightly. In that moment she felt so amazing it made her dizzy.

A faint aroma of burned pepper wafted into her nostrils bringing her crashing back to Earth. Her eyes bugged when she smelled it, tensing, knowing Ivy would be able to smell it, too. 

Ivy just kept on smiling. “That was fun,” she said finally, leaning in to kiss Harley on the forehead. “Thank you for dancing with me,” she added softly.

“I’ve gotta- Vegetables-” Harley murmured. The fluttering inside of her was fading, she had screwed up _again_. How could she have forgotten about dinner? 

Ivy nodded, planting another kiss in her hair and gently letting go of her fingers. “I’ll give you some space. Let me know if you need anything?”

She watched nervously as Ivy left the room.

Sure enough, the vegetables were overdone, the potatoes were soggy and no amount of seasoning could have saved them. She cringed as she plated up, trying to find the light fluttering feeling that had lifted her up just minutes before. Ivy would be so disappointed and it made her want to cry.

She took the plates into the living room with a heavy heart. Ivy was watching TV, the coloured light flashing against her skin, turning it all sorts of unnatural colours in the dark.

“It’s kind of… Burnt,” Harley admitted.

Ivy, to her surprise, looked delighted, reaching forward to take the plate from her hands. “Ooh!” she grinned, picking up her fork. “I like ‘em crispy.”

Harley blinked in surprise, letting out the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding, before taking up her usual spot on the sofa.

“What we watchin’?” she asked casually, picking up her fork to assess which bite she wanted to risk first.

“Some stupid gameshow where the contestants are- Oh come on!” Ivy yelled at the TV. “ _How_ do you not know that? Do you live in a _cave_?!” Harley looked up from her food and smirked; it was a question about trees.

She chanced a look at at Ivy again, her profile highlighted in the pale light of the television. The blossoming in her chest grew just a little more. Ivy looked back at her and grinned before taking another bite.

Later that night, under the light of the waxing Moon, they stood out in the freezing cold of Ivy’s backyard and burned the envelope with the note inside it.

Harley would later think about that day as a turning point, like the world had shifted on its axis. At the time, she couldn’t quite put her finger on what had changed but she found herself yearning to be in the greenhouse with Ivy, less and less content to entertain herself in her own space.

She would sit on a stool or the rim of one of the giant pots and watch her work for hours, listening intently while she talked about biodiversity and symbiotic relationships or the optimal conditions for photosynthesis in night flowering plants. Most of it went over Harley’s head but she loved to listen. Ivy was so passionate and it was kind of addictive. 

Ivy would take breaks sometimes to tell her stories of the places she’d been and the people she’d met along the way as she travelled in search of rare and expensive plants. Harley hadn’t even known that there _were_ rare and expensive plants. She talked about having to eat crickets in the jungle and almost being chased by a bear when she went collecting lupines and poppies in the Arctic. Harley would sit with her chin in her hands and listen, content just to stay there all day.

Once the stories were over and Ivy had to get back to work, she liked to wander around. She had even gotten used to the tropical climate in there, mostly, and she liked to visit all the plants to check on them. Ivy had made little signs for each one with care instructions, because she was a _nerd_ , but Harley secretly liked to read them and learn stuff when she wasn’t looking. 

There were some plants she knew by instinct that she shouldn’t touch, mostly because Ivy had developed a strange kind of twitch whenever she went near them, quickly dropping what she was doing to nicely direct her to some other plants she could look at.

“Can I ask you somethin’?” Harley asked one day, curiosity getting the better of her. Ivy nodded, not looking up from where she was tending to some orchids. “What’s so special about that tree?” she pointed at the biggest plant in the Don’t Touch Corner.

Ivy looked at her, then at it, and back to the orchids. “It’s delicate,” she admitted finally. “And really expensive.”

“Oh?” Harley tilted her head, swinging her legs against the pot she was sitting on. “How expensive we talkin’?”

“Oh, you know,” Ivy waved a hand nonchalantly. “About one or one and a half million, something like that.”

“Dollars?!” Harley screeched, nearly losing her balance and falling off. “You’re _shittin’ me_. No tree can be worth that much.” She narrowed her eyes. “Ya havin’ fun with me, aren’tcha?”

“Look it up,” Ivy replied confidently, not turning around, moving some stems from the pile on the left of her desk to the pile on the right, she turned to talk to Harley over her shoulder. “You can find other examples. They’re notoriously difficult to grow, for most people-” she smirked to herself, she was not _most people_ “-and they can die from one day to the next with little to no warning. They get bigger as they get older and he’s _old_. They’re usually about-” she estimated maybe a tenth of the size of her tree and held it up for Harley to see. “This big?”

“Wow,” Harley looked at the tree which was a monster by comparison. “You’re good,” she told her, genuinely impressed. Ivy smiled at the compliment.

“Can I ask you something?” she returned, putting the stems down to give Harley her full attention.

“Sure,” Harley agreed, swinging her legs again.

“Why are you so interested in my plants all of a sudden?”

Harley shrugged, she wasn’t really sure. “You like ‘em and I like you. They’re your friends, right? M’sure you told me that once. I thought you were Looney Tunes at the time but… I think I get it now. An’ any friend of Pamela Isley’s is a friend of mine. So I thought I would spend some time with them and just hang out.”

Ivy nodded, striding over to tend to a giant fern so Harley wouldn’t see her creeping blush and shaky exhale.

“Hey, you wanna come help me with this?” she asked when she’d calmed down, gesturing to a bunch of small pots in a relatively empty corner of the greenhouse. Harley hopped off the pot she was sitting on and walked over for a closer look. Ivy picked up a plant that had looked like it had outgrown its home and showed it to her. “It’s pretty easy,” she explained. “See these little shoots? Those are like its babies. Now they’re big enough, we need to give them new homes in these empty pots so they can all start to grow.”

So they began replanting them, one by one.

“Careful,” Ivy guided her as she scooped out her first one. Harley was strangely terrified of hurting it. It looked so small and fragile in her hand, its little roots poking out the bottom of the soil clump. She held it still and waited impatiently while Ivy added just enough soil to the bottom of the new pot, plus a mix of whatever concoctions were in the unlabelled coloured bottles. Finally, when Ivy gave her the go ahead, she placed it gently in its new home while Ivy gave it another blanket of soil to keep it warm. She even made one of Ivy’s nerdy little signs for it, but she didn’t know what kind of plant it was, or what it needed to grow, so just drew a heart and plopped it in the soil. Everything grew with love, she reasoned.

They continued like that for the rest of the day, Ivy managing the soil and weird-magic-plant-juice stuff and Harley on plant-holding detail.

“Can this one be mine?” she wondered out loud as Ivy was packing up. Ivy turned to her as she picked up the first tiny sprout they’d planted, the one with the little heart sign. “You’re my only friend, Pammy, and you’re my best friend but I think…” She balanced the pot on her palm and turned it round slowly, looking at it from every angle to make sure the sprout was settling in okay. “Maybe I have room for one more.” 

“Definitely. I think it likes you more anyway,” Ivy confirmed, coming to stand behind Harley and look at the plant with her. Harley didn’t see her misty eyes, or how she wasn’t really looking at the plant at all, because she could have sworn that the tiny sprout shook at her. She held it an inch from her face and smiled, waving right back.

Another week drifted by, blissfully uneventful, but Harley didn’t help replant any more of her shoots, since a few of the ones she had helped to rehome had since died. She had sulked for a whole day about that, even though Ivy was fine about it, rambling on about the circle of life or whatever.

Although Tiny Sprout, as he had been officially named, was growing well. If Ivy was tending to him when Harley wasn’t looking, she hadn’t been caught yet. Harley made sure to go into the greenhouse to water him and talk to him every day.

She went to see him one afternoon to catch up on the greenhouse happenings, Ivy was upstairs getting a book or something so she seized her opportunity to get some alone time with him. 

“Hey Tiny Sprout,” she waved, picking him up and sitting cross-legged with him on the floor. “Since Ivy’s in the house, it’s just me an’ you. So I gotta tell you a few things so you know the score round here-”

Behind her, Ivy reached the greenhouse door, book in hand, and reached for the handle, then stopped. Harley was talking to her plant again and though she didn’t want to disturb her, she couldn’t bring herself to walk away. Slowly, silently, she turned the handle and pushed the door open just a crack, straining to listen.

“Okay, here’s the deal,” Harley started, clearly in full story-telling mode. “See, me an’ Puddin’, we go way back. Him and me, we used to be a duo, inseparable, partners-in-crime, and it was great! But… One day he changed, and he got real mean, so I had to run away. I wasn’t growin’ anymore, just like you in the pot with all your brothers and sisters. So we have that in common! I guess I’m in a new pot too…” She paused in thought. “I was also-” she chewed her lip. “I was also, maybe, kind of, in danger. An’ I know you can’t relate since you’re in here but-. I was. An’ it took me a while to see it. An’ even though I think I still miss him, sometimes, I think… I miss the person he used ta be, not the person he is, y’know?” She picked up Tiny Sprout and held him close to her face, looking for any sign of a response. “Am I makin’ sense?”

Behind her, Ivy bit her knuckle hard to stop herself from making any noise as her eyes began to well up.

Harley sighed, putting the plant down again. “An’ Ivy’s – you know Ivy – she’s been real good to me these last few weeks…” She paused in thought again. “Always, actually. You get it, though, she’s good to you too! She’s probably the only reason you’re still alive, an’ here I am just chewin’ your ear off.” She tilted her head, thinking out loud. “Or is it... Leaves… Off? Don’t worry!” she added loudly, startled by her own words. “I won’t chew yer leaves off,” she chuckled at herself. “Anyway. Point is, Tiny Sprout, Ivy is good people. She’s super smart and she’s forgivin’ even when I’m dumb and she holds me when I have nightmares and she makes me happy. An’ I think you an’ me have a lot in common ‘cause she’s the reason we’re both still alive an’ I…” she looked down at her hands, her voice becoming quiet. “I do stupid things sometimes, ‘cause I don’t think all the time I jus’ feel an’… I need you to remind me to trust her, okay? Can you do that for me?”

She sat and watched the plant for a little while, saying nothing else. Eventually, she looked at the door and stood, picked him up and put him down gently on the side with the rest of his family. If she had looked up a second earlier, she wouldn’t have missed the flick of Ivy’s red hair as she ran back into the house, her chest full and her face wet with tears. As it happened, she did.

That night, Harley had the same nightmare. She woke up crying and furiously wiped at her eyes. Slinking out of her bed, she crept down the corridor to Ivy’s room and pushed the door open, watching her nervously. She had been spanked and fucked and kissed on that bed but in the dark it looked different, altogether new and too good for her. She considered going back to her own room again but decided against it before tiptoeing silently to the foot of the bed.

“Harley?” Ivy croaked in her sleep, opening one eye. Harley froze, one knee on the bed, feeling terrible for waking her up. Ivy took one look at her and shuffled back. “Don’t even think about it,” she whispered in the dark, pulling back the sheets.

Equal parts relieved and pleased, Harley crawled into her bed and into her arms. She let her head fall against the pillow and Ivy gathered her close, slipping one arm under her neck and placing the other around the small of her back, cuddling her in. She smelled like her greenhouse and something sweet Harley couldn’t quite place. It was almost too warm under the duvet, with Ivy radiating heat in her sleep. She thought of Tiny Sprout and his friends, about how they all grew best in the warmth, with Ivy’s caring hand to guide them. 

Maybe, she thought, as sleep took her under, just maybe that would work for her too.

Of course, all good things never did last for Harley Quinn. A few days later, she had decided to take a break from the greenhouse to catch up on some cartoons. Tom had gotten his head stuck in Jerry’s mouse hole again when there was an insistent knock at the door. 

She froze for a moment, not knowing what to do. 

The knock came again, louder this time, and she ran to the greenhouse.

Her hand slipped in panic on the handle and she forced herself to take a breath. It was probably a delivery driver or something. Probably. “Pam, there’s someone at the door,” she announced nervously. Ivy turned to her and frowned. She dropped what she was doing and stepped past Harley, stalking through the house to answer the door. Harley followed close behind.

When Ivy opened the door Harley looked past her to see who it was. Her jaw dropped.

Puddin’ was there, dressed up real nice in his best suit. He had his hair done and was holding a giant bouquet of red roses. Behind him stood two of his friends – who Harley would later refer to as Thing One and Thing Two - holding a banner with _J+H 4EVA_ emblazoned across it in sparkly writing.

Harley couldn’t see Ivy’s face but her shoulders were tense. She took a deep breath, swallowed and stepped by her to go outside and face him.

“There she is!” he declared happily, loud enough to scare the birds. “How _are_ you Harley? You look good.”

“Thanks,” she muttered trying to find her voice. She took another deep breath. “What are ya doin’ here, Puddin’?” she inquired evenly.

“Well I’ve been doing some thinking and I think it’s time for you to come home,” he told her, his voice light and gentle. “Because I miss you.”

Harley glanced back to look at Ivy. Her arms were folded and the expression on her face was unreadable, schooled into a hard, unrelenting glare.

“I know you’ve had a nice holiday here with your _friend_ ,” he carried on. “But you and me baby, we’re meant to be together. I’m nothing without you, Harley. We’re sugar and spice. Whaddya say?”

Harley frowned, something wasn’t right. Why wasn’t she happy to see him? Why wasn’t she jumping into his arms? She looked back at Ivy again, and then back at the house, to his hopeful grin and then to the floor. She chewed on her lip, worrying it between her teeth and it split, a metallic tang of blood in her mouth. 

She couldn’t actually remember a time he had been this nice to her and even here, now, everything he was saying was on _his_ terms. She thought of him and she thought of nightmares. She thought of him and she had knots in her stomach, a tightness in her chest. She brought a hand up to her cheekbone and ran her fingers there, thinking of the last day she had been alone with him and the way Ivy’s hair had tickled the same place a few nights earlier as they’d slept. She thought of dancing in the kitchen, of Ivy’s stories of far-off places she wanted to visit someday too, of Tiny Sprout and the conversation they’d had, just the two of them. 

She looked at Ivy again for help, but Ivy was looking at the floor. She looked pale and she was trembling slightly. Ivy should never have to look like that. Never.

It told her everything she needed to know.

“No,” she answered, her voice quiet and surprised. It astounded her that she had the strength.

“Come again?” His smile grew a little wider as he cupped an ear. 

_All the better to hear you with, said the Big Bad Wolf._

“No,” she repeated louder, finding the confidence to keep her voice steady.

“Whaddya mean no?” he shrieked incredulously.

“I mean no,” she told him again, voice hard and firm. She was getting angry. “I loved ya Puddin’, I really did, but I don’t want ya around anymore. We’re done.”

He reeled back like he had been winded. Behind her, Ivy moved a step closer. Behind him, his friends both sung “ _ooh_!” like children about to watch a playground brawl.

“Babe, you can’t do any better than me,” he scoffed. “You know that. You won the jackpot and you’re going to turn it down? Use your brains, limited as they may be. Think.” He tapped his own temple twice and leaned in close. She had once found nothing but love in those eyes; now they just looked strange and mean.

Just like him. 

“It’s okay,” he conceded, taking a step back. “You take a minute to think about it. I’m prepared to give you one more chance. I’m _nice_ like that.”

She didn’t need a minute. In fact, she didn’t need another fucking second. 

“You might be prepared to give me one more chance, Puddin’, but you’ve ran out,” she declared, folding her arms and staring him down defiantly. “You should go.”

“ _Where do you get off being such a bitch?!_ ” he exploded, getting all up in her face, his eyes wild, spittle flying. “ _You_ fucked up, Harley! _Not_ me!”

When she refused to back down he threw the flowers on the floor, stamping them into the stone path. “You fucked it up! You and your _fucking whore_!” He gestured to Ivy who didn’t react at all, though he was throwing himself around like a madman, because she was staring at Harley in disbelief. 

He took a breath and tried to calm himself, his voice strained and desperate. “I’ll forgive you for everything you did, and for all this-” he gestured to Ivy and the house, like the last month of her life had been one huge transgression “-if you apologise to me _right the fuck now_.”

Harley rolled her eyes. 

“Puddin’, I don’t think you’re quite gettin’ this,” she spoke clearly so there was no way he could get it wrong. “Listen good. I’m _glad_ I fucked it up. An’ you wanna know why? Because if I hadn’t, I’d still be with ya. I’d still be scared for my life an’ too messed up to even realise. But if _you_ hadn’t fucked it up, I’d never have come here in the first place.” 

She turned to Ivy, who had the smallest smirk in the corner of her mouth. It spurred Harley on. “And believe me,” she took a step closer to him, her words clear and concise and _seething_ “-she is better than you ever were-” she lowered to a whisper “-in every way you can imagine.”

His face fell and for a moment he looked genuinely sad. “But-” he tried, then stopped.

“Dude,” Thing One snorted. “Are those two _fucking_?”

“Damn that’s hot,” commented Thing Two.

“And you knew?” Thing One looked at Joker, then threw his head back and laughed. 

“Shit! What are we doing holding this? We look like idiots,” Thing Two snickered, rolling up the banner and hurling it into the shrubbery.

“You lost your girlfriend _to a girl_ , hah! That’s so _sad_ ,” Thing One cooed derisively.

“ _Shut up!_ ” Joker screamed so loud Harley thought he might hurt himself. “ _Shut up shut up shut up! All of you! Just shut the fuck up!_ ” His face started to turn beetroot red. “Fuck. You. Quinn.” he hissed venomously, stepping towards her.

“Leave.” Ivy growled, loud and menacing. She stepped in front of Harley and towered over them both, staring him down.

His eyes flickered from Harley to Ivy and back again. Without warning his face cleared and he started laughing, the same laugh that was in Harley’s nightmares, before spitting on the floor in front of them and turning to leave. He stalked down the road and out of sight, his friends tagging along and mocking him the whole way. The only signs he had ever been in Harley’s life were a ruined bouquet of flowers, a banner stuck in a bush and one giant spoonful of emotional trauma.

Once he was really gone, Ivy led her inside out of the cold and they stood in the hallway. Harley thought of the day she had run here, run away from him, run _to_ her, and it seemed like it had been the most natural thing in the world.

“So, I’ve wanted him dead for a long time,” Ivy admitted breezily. “I gotta say though Harl, weirdly, I think that was better.” Harley looked up into Ivy’s sparkling green eyes and they smiled at each other. “I’m proud of you,” she added.

Harley swallowed and took Ivy’s hand. Even after what had just happened, she wasn’t thinking about him. There was something more important on her mind. “Can we talk?” she asked softly.

“Oh, uh, sure, okay,” Ivy agreed, suddenly nervous. She let Harley lead her to the sofa and they both sat down. Harley took a deep breath.

“We need to talk about the day- Um. The day I came here. About what you told me,” she prompted. 

Ivy grimaced. “Harl, please don’t let that bother you, I’m honestly fine, I-” She stopped when Harley put a hand on her knee.

“Please let me?” she asked gently.

Ivy looked at her lap, nodding even though she didn’t quite know what she was agreeing to. Her shoulders hunched slightly and Harley put a hand on the small of her back to comfort her.

“I’ve been thinkin’. I always thought what I had with him was love… Until I met you. But now I think I just didn’t know what love is. An’ that day, when you said you loved me, I wasn’t sure how I felt at first, since I thought it might have been jus’ sex feelings, y’know? But... We’re not havin’… Since then we haven’t-… But those feelings? They're _still there_.” She took Ivy’s hand and squeezed it. “You said you're in love with me. An’, bein' honest, I'm pretty sure I'm in love with you, too. The thing is, I- I’m… Not ready for this, yet.” Ivy looked up, her eyes were huge. “I’m not goin’ anywhere,” Harley reassured her quickly, stroking circles into the small of her back. “I promise. You’ve showed me what real love is an’ I love the way you make me feel about myself an’ about the world an’… There’s magic in you, Pammy. You make me feel alive.” 

Ivy ducked her head and smiled, staring intently at their hands as she listened.

“I first came to you for fun, then I came to you to escape but-. You always deserved better. You deserve someone who isn’t broken, someone who won’t try an’ sleep on your feet when she’s scared because she doesn’t think she’s good enough to share your bed.” Ivy opened her mouth to speak but Harley put a finger over her lips to stop her. “I wanna be that person,” Harley confessed, looking deep into her eyes. “But you were right, I deserve to take my time. I want this,” She squeezed Ivy’s hand. “But I hafta get better first. Can you wait a little longer? For me? Please?”

Without missing a beat, Ivy gathered Harley into her arms and drew in a shaky breath. “Oh honey,” she whispered quietly, blinking away tears and squeezing her close. “I am so, so proud of you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did the research, a bonsai really did once sell for about $1.3 million. Crazy.
> 
> For the kitchen scene, the song I had in my head was I Think We're Alone Now by Tiffany. I tried to write it so you can imagine your own song, if you can think of another one. If you can, let me know!  
> If you'd like to listen to the Harlivy playlist I made for this story, you can do so (if this works) [here](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLeapu3a_H9A5ICWVwVQ8c75qH2iAIh6du).


	5. The Second First Time

Three months had drifted by and the leaves had begun to turn. The air outside was cool and brisk; Ivy watched flakes of rust and russet dance across her back yard through the fogged glass of her greenhouse. Winter would be here before she knew it; the chill would set in, the ground would freeze up and the world beyond her world would go to sleep, if only for a little while.

Winter never quite reached the greenhouse; most of her plants were tropical and had never tasted cold. Her greenhouse was an Eden where life could flourish, freed from the interminable pain of modern day climate change, pollution and acid rain that stained the Earth.

Ivy tilted her head and smiled, wistfully watching the leaves blow by. She used to think that she was so disillusioned with other humans and what they were senselessly doing to the Earth that it would suit her best to be alone for her entire life. 

But now? Now she wouldn’t even entertain that idea.

Her world had been turned inside out and upside down by a pretty girl with blonde hair, blue eyes and a wicked smile. When she had first realised her feelings for Harley, when they had begun to bloom somewhere deep inside her chest, she thought that she was so in love she would eventually suffocate from it. She shook her head at her own stupidity and smiled; Harley could never kill her, Harley _gave_ her life. They had only been living together for a few months but, to Ivy, those few months had felt like walking into her greenhouse after suffering through an endless winter outside. 

She cast her eyes over to the plant that Harley loved so much and remembered the day they’d planted him together. It had grown a lot over these past few months, just like Harley had. She had stopped jumping at the slightest thing, had started opening up about how she was feeling and had finally stopped having those awful nightmares. She was growing in strength and confidence every single day, becoming the real Harley, the one Ivy remembered and it had been a blessing to watch.

Ivy could not have been more proud of her.

Of course, she still had mood swings, she was impulsive and wilful, she made ridiculous puns at the worst times and sulked like a damn child when she didn’t get her own way, but that was Harley and Ivy honestly wouldn’t have changed her if it would save the world.

“Ponderin’ the mysteries of the universe, Pammy?” Harley asked from the other side of the greenhouse, brushing loose soil on her t-shirt – _Ivy’s_ t-shirt – as she walked over. After relentless pleading, Ivy had given Harley a corner of the greenhouse of her own and she, alone, was responsible for all that dared to live there.

If it was as far away as possible from the Don’t Touch Corner, that was just a coincidence.

“Something like that,” she gave Harley a half smile. “Harl, we really should take you shopping. You’re drowning in that shirt.”

She shrugged. “I like it. It’s comfy.”

“Fine, you can keep the shirt,” she conceded. “But you need at least to buy some of your own underwear. I keep running out.”

Harley’s brow furrowed as she thought about it for a moment, then nodded, her face clearing. “Deal,” she agreed. “Can’t have ya in ol’ granny panties, can we?” she winked with a cheeky grin.

Ivy opened her mouth, about tell her _she could have her in anything she wanted_ , then thought better of it and shook her head with a fond smile.

She was still so unbelievably gone for her and she fell just a little more every single day.

So that was how they ended up going into the city for the first time since Harley had moved in. The streets were packed, full of nameless faces, chaos shifting around them. Harley kept one hand on Ivy as they weaved through the crowd. Her fingers tightened around Ivy’s upper arm as one guy came a little too close. Ivy rolled her shoulders back, stood tall and gave him her signature don’t-fuck-with-me glare until he backed off. 

She cursed herself again for not realising how broken Harley had been last time she had come back to the city by herself. They’d seen each other at least once a month, sometimes more, but Harley had always been so good at pretending everything was fine when it really, really hadn’t been.

But there was enough time for Ivy to hate herself later. Even though it wasn’t a date, or anything close, she was taking the only person she cared about into the city to treat her to lovely things and she’d be damned if Harley wasn’t going to have a good time. 

Harley dragged her into store after store, inevitably emerging some time later with their arms full of bags, before Ivy was dragged against her will through Gotham thrift market for those more “unique” accessories Harley was looking for. Once they had bought enough clothes to tide her over for a little while, it was time for them to find a place to grab lunch. They wandered up a side street, past bars, hairdressers and hemp shops, until Harley stopped in her tracks and pulled Ivy to a sudden halt. Ivy followed her gaze.

“Should I?” she asked, excited, her eyes wide as she stared at the sign above the tattoo shop.

“Got any ideas?”

“A few, c’mon,” Harley dragged her through the door by her elbow.

The bright studio smelled of chemical cleaning fluid and orange blossom from the synthetic air diffuser on the windowsill. They put their bags down by the sofa in the waiting room and began to leaf through the flash work on the wall, pointing at different designs and talking about where Harley should get it.

Ivy was halfway through deliberating over whether to suggest a skull floating out of a chemical bottle or a baseball bat covered in blood when Harley’s face lit up.

“I got it!” she shrieked excitedly, already gone before Ivy had a chance to respond. She skipped over to the sullen artist at the front desk and begun whispering conspiratorially, drawing a design on the desk with her finger. Ivy watched her, slightly suspicious.

The artist nodded thoughtfully and stood up, muttering something and walking into the other room. Harley shuffled back over to her with the biggest grin on her face and Ivy could not have been more suspicious. What was she up to? 

“Sit down, this might take a while,” Harley told her and leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. The unexpected affection stunned Ivy enough that when she came back to herself, Harley was already in the other room, climbing into the tattooist’s chair.

With nothing much else to do, Ivy made herself comfortable on the sofa in the waiting room and distributed the bags about her feet. She pulled her phone out, checked her messages and settled in to watch a National Geographic documentary while she waited.

Then she watched another one. The relentless buzz of the tattoo gun whirred in the back of her mind.

About three hours after Harley had disappeared with a flourish, she emerged from the other room looking exactly the same as she had when she’d gone in. Ivy pocketed her phone and stood up. 

“So?” she asked expectantly. “Are you going to show me?”

Harley smirked and looked back at the artist before leaning in and whispering “not here”.

“Harley, where did you-?” Ivy’s mouth had gone dry.

“It’s underneath my collarbone, ya perv,” she giggled. “Later.”

Ivy settled up at the front desk with a wave of her credit card. They gathered up the bags, Ivy offering to carry most of them since Harley winced whenever she moved too much.

“Hey thanks Ken, you’re a peach!” Harley called over her shoulder as they left. The guy at the desk – Ken, apparently – nodded and waved with a smile.

“So what did you get?” Ivy asked, curious.

“ _Later_.” Harley answered emphatically. “C’mon, let’s go get food, I’m starvin’.”

By the time they got home, Ivy was exhausted. She had tended to her plants in the morning, so they put Harley’s clothes away together and crashed out on the couch. The sun had almost sunk behind the horizon, casting a golden, autumn glow over the living room.

Harley sat on the other end of the sofa, a big smile on her face. It made Ivy’s chest hurt a little so see her so happy. Finally, fucking _finally_. 

Although she had just bought a whole new wardrobe and was still wearing Ivy’s t-shirt.

Ivy silently conceded she had most likely lost that particular battle.

“So…” Harley smirked mischievously, pulling her legs underneath herself and kneeling to face her. “Wanna see it?”

Ivy nodded with a smile and Harley leaned up, pulling the collar of her shirt forward.

Sure enough, under her collarbone, was fresh ink that hadn’t been there before. It was under a thin film taped over the artwork to protect it but Ivy could still make it out. It was a palm-sized tattoo, placed over her heart, the outline of three red diamond shapes, each one shattered, filled with hairline cracks and shining like they were made of broken glass, all held together by creeping green vines. It was beautiful and poignant and so incredibly _Harley_ that she was a little dumbfounded.

“D’you like it?” Harley asked as Ivy unconsciously shuffled closer to get a better look. “I thought about what I wanted most in the world an’ then it just… Seemed obvious.”

Ivy tore her gaze away from it and looked into Harley’s eyes; she looked nervous, and Ivy wasn’t sure why. Then she realised. 

They were _really_ close. 

They were so close, Ivy could feel Harley’s breath against her cheek, soft and measured. When had that happened? She watched Harley’s focus flicker to her own lips and held her breath. All it would take was for one small move, one inch, one moment-

_I hafta get better first. Can you wait a little longer? For me? Please?_

“Sorry,” Ivy croaked finally, pointedly forcing herself to move away, even though it went against every nerve ending in her body, they all craved _Harley_.

“S’okay,” she replied in a whisper so soft Ivy barely heard it.

“It’s beautiful Harley,” Ivy admitted, refocusing herself and trying not to get choked up at the overwhelming symbolism of it. “I love it.”

Harley’s face lit up in a wide smile. “I knew ya would!” She jumped back down to a sitting position and flicked on the TV. “Let’s watch a movie.”

Ivy dutifully fixed her eyes on the screen but she couldn’t concentrate. She knew Harley needed a friend right now, she didn’t need someone desperate for her affection but sometimes it was really difficult to toe the line. She wanted to reach out and tuck the stray lock of Harley’s hair behind her ear. She wanted to thank Harley with a kiss every time she brought food to the greenhouse because she’d forgotten to have lunch again. She wanted to go into Harley’s bedroom each morning and bring her to her bed so she could stroke her back and tell her all the things she swallowed each day about how much Harley had made her life better, how much she’d given Ivy a reason to live outside _and_ inside of her greenhouse, how lonely she had been without her and how she couldn’t stand the thought of ever losing her.

Of course, she couldn’t do or say any of that. Harley needed time, she needed space to heal. Ivy had to remind herself of that at one time or another every single damn day but some days were harder than others. No matter, she could wait. She would wait forever, if she had to. When it came down to it, she would never risk the gamble if losing meant losing Harley. Harley had wanted this to work, she had promised and Ivy was going to let her have it on her terms.

It was a curious thing, being in love with your best friend, especially when she loved you back.

Ivy became lost in her thoughts, about Harley, about their lives, about what they meant to one another and completely missed the plot line of the movie. Before she knew it, the credits had begun to roll. Ivy looked over and felt such an overwhelming feeling of fondness she had to take a breath to steady herself. Harley had fallen asleep, exhausted by the day, her head lolling against the back of the sofa, a small drool patch under her mouth.

Ivy nudged her. She stirred but didn’t wake, so Ivy reached over and scratched gently below her ear. “C’mon sleepyhead,” she coaxed softly. “Bedtime.”

“Wha? Issitover?” Harley slurred, opening her sleep-glassy eyes, watching the credits with a dazed stare.

“Bedtime,” Ivy repeated gently, reluctantly pulling her hand away.

Harley nodded, pushing the throw off her and rubbing her eyes. Ivy extended her hand and Harley took it, standing on shaky legs. They walked up the stairs like that, hand in hand, too tired for it to be weird, until they were stood outside Ivy’s door.

“Well,” Ivy announced softly, feeling strangely awkward. “This is me.” 

She lingered for a second, even though she knew she shouldn’t. Harley needed time, she told herself again, she didn’t need Ivy pushing her, no matter how much she just wanted to drag Harley into her room, wrap her arms around her and keep her safe through the night.

Harley yawned. “Sleep tight Pammy,” she mumbled, letting go of Ivy’s hand and walking to her own room.

Ivy watched her leave and slunk into her bedroom. It felt too big, too empty and desperately lonely. She sighed, rubbing her eyes and crawling under the covers. It was even too cold without her.

Staring up at the ceiling, suddenly wide awake, all Ivy could think of was the girl in the next room and what she wouldn’t give just to hold her, just once more, to feel her soft sighs and warm skin, to smell her hair and hear her intoxicating, infectious giggle. She remembered the nights she would lie here alone, her chest tight, thinking of her far off in the city, hurt and afraid. 

Now, all she could dream of was their future, a life where she could continue to heal and Ivy would be there protect her. When it came to Harley, Ivy had no limit to what she would do for her; watching her get better every single day was a fair trade for the dull ache she felt waking up alone each morning. Eventually her thoughts began to circle like water in a drain, pulling her under with them as she fell into a dreamless sleep.

Some time later that night, Ivy felt cool air hitting her shoulder and she shivered, cracking an eye open. Harley was stood in front of her, shuffling from foot to foot. She blinked, forcing her eyes open.

“Move over?” Harley whispered.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, voice groggy and thick with sleep.

“Nothin’,” Harley whispered back. “Jus’ couldn’t sleep.”

She dutifully shuffled back to let Harley crawl in beside her. “Did you have another nightmare?” she pressed, concerned.

Even in the dark, Harley was so close that Ivy could see the pale outline of her lips curl up in the moonlight. “Nope,” she admitted sweetly, planting a soft kiss on Ivy’s nose before snuggling in and closing her eyes. “Night night Pammy.”

Ivy raised her eyebrows in surprise and opened her mouth to say something but thought better of it. It could wait. She rested her chin on top of Harley’s head and cuddled her in close, careful not to touch her new tattoo. “Night baby,” she murmured, relishing in Harley’s warm breath against her collarbone, but she had already fallen to sleep.

The next morning, the first thing Ivy felt was Harley in her arms, her soft breath brushing against Ivy’s cheek. As she pulled round, the second thing she felt was a scratch in the back of her throat. Ivy was warm, warmer than usual, and she felt kind of nauseous. She slipped her arms carefully from around Harley and sat up. The room began to spin and she coughed, holding her own head and groaning.

“Pammy? You okay?” Harley asked groggily, frowning and reaching out to touch Ivy’s arm.

“Yes,” Ivy assured her, trying to mentally shake herself out of it. What the hell?

It was morning. Her plants needed her. She sneezed.

“No you’re not,” Harley corrected, sitting up and putting a hand to her forehead. “Holy shit,” she gasped. “Pammy, you’re sick. You’re stayin’ in bed! Doctor’s orders,” she tried really hard to sound forceful. It was so cute.

“Can’t,” Ivy told her, coughing again. “Greenhouse needs me.”

“I’ll take care of it!” she promised enthusiastically.

Ivy loved her, she really did, but no.

“It’s okay Harl, I’m fine,” Ivy tried to brush her off with a wave, but Harley grabbed her by the waist and pulled her back down. Ivy was too weak to fight and they fell back against the pillows, looking at one another. Ivy sniffed.

“I’ll take care of the plants,” Harley promised, booping her nose with a finger. “An’ I’ll take care of you, too.” 

“They’re fragile Harl,” she argued. Harley’s expression switched from caring to stern so fast that Ivy felt chastised by it. “They’re sensitive to the _slightest_ changes.”

“Hey! I can be sensitive to… Sensitivity!” she argued indignantly. “Besides, they know me now.”

Ivy sighed. She honestly didn’t have the strength. “Fine,” she conceded through gritted teeth. “But you follow my instructions!”

“To the _letter_!” Harley agreed, then leaned in and whispered in Ivy’s ear “you know I love doing that.” She kissed the skin just below, winked at her then hopped out of bed with a smirk and left the room.

Ivy blinked at the open door where Harley had been just a second before. She very rarely got sick at the best of times; she had definitely never been sick and turned on. It was a strange state of affairs.

Two hours and a handful of minor disagreements later, all of which Ivy had lost, she found herself in her greenhouse, sat on a camper bed Harley had dug out from under the stairs, wrapped in the comforter from the sofa, sipping lemon tea and grumpily giving Harley instructions as to the absolute bare minimum of exactly what to do to keep the greenhouse alive.

“Must have been all those people,” she grumbled. “I told you I’m allergic to people.”

“I know ya are Pammy, shh,” Harley soothed for what felt like the thousandth time that morning, clapping the soil off her own hands and wandering over to kiss Ivy’s mussed up hair.

“Now, last one Harl, three drops of the blue bottle,” Ivy instructed carefully.

Harley wandered over to the cupboard where Ivy kept all her home made tonics and toxins. “This one?” she asked brightly, holding up a light blue glass bottle.

“No, the other blue bottle,” Ivy pointed meaninglessly before pulling the comforter back over her shoulder.

Harley dug inside of the cabinet again and pulled out a small blue-green bottle with a thin neck. “This one?”

“No! Not that one!” Ivy squeaked in panic. That had a chance of turning the pollen into what would essentially be drops of acid and – if the plant released its spores – potentially kill _everything in the greenhouse_.

Harley held her hands up in surrender and very slowly put the bottle back in the cabinet, acting like it would explode if she so much as looked at it the wrong way. When Ivy visibly relaxed with relief, Harley went back to rooting through her ridiculous cabinet for an unnamed, unpatented chemical compound in a mysterious blue bottle.

“Gonna get you a goddamn label maker for Christmas,” Harley sulked, grumbling under her breath.

Luckily for everyone involved, a few days later Ivy was feeling much better and her plants were – to her relief – flourishing more than ever. Harley, on the other hand, had come down with a serious case of being obnoxiously smug about the entire event. She had been temporarily banished from the greenhouse until she could agree to stop making jokes about who the plants _actually_ loved the most.

Ivy was in the greenhouse, doing research in her peaceful snark-free sanctuary, when all sources pointed to an old book she had in the house somewhere; she had a hunch it was on the old bookcase in Harley’s room. She sighed, smiling despite herself, looking at the greenhouse door. _Of course it was_. Harley had been insufferable all morning. Exasperated by her own quiet, bubbling excitement, she walked upstairs and knocked gently on the door.

“Come in if you’re the second favourite!” Harley called from the other side.

Swallowing a laugh and rolling her eyes, Ivy opened the door. “Not ready to admit defeat, are you?”

“Never,” Harley assured her with a wide smile. She was lying on her bed with her feet up the wall and her head hanging off the side, her pigtails dangling to the floor, reading a trashy novel with a topless man on the front.

“You’ll make yourself dizzy doing that,” Ivy told her, crossing the room to the old bookcase to hunt out what she was looking for.

“No I, _woah_ -” Harley swung her legs round to sit up _like a normal person_ and had to put a hand out to steady herself. She watched Ivy kneel by the old bookcase and begin to hunt for the book. 

“An’ here I was thinkin’ ya came to see lil old me,” she shook her head, pulling a sad face and sighed dramatically. “Where did the magic go?”

Ivy pinched the bridge of her nose and grinned despite herself.

“Hey Pammy?” she tilted her head.

“Mm?” Ivy replied, grazing the book spines with a finger as she glanced over the titles.

“You know how I’m bisexual?” Harley blurted. Ivy’s finger paused for a second, then carried on.

“Yeah,” she held her breath. Where was she going with this?

“Do you like guys too?”

“What?” Ivy pulled a face.

“Y’know… _Guys_ ,” she repeated, waving the cover of her book at Ivy and wiggling her eyebrows.

“Oh, uh, not- I-” Ivy shifted uncomfortably. “No.”

“So, just girls then?” she smirked.

Ivy found the book she was looking for and plucked it from the shelf, dusting it off with her hand. “Um,” she blushed with a slight shake of her head.

Harley’s brow furrowed in confusion. “You must like girls Pammy, you like _me_.”

“Yeah, but that’s kind of… It.” Ivy muttered, her cheeks began to flush. She couldn’t quite bring herself to look at Harley’s puzzled expression.

“What?”

“I’m not-. I’ve never-” she tried, then sighed, sitting down next to Harley on her bed. She supposed she should be honest about it. “I always thought the idea of being with another human was kind of… Repellent. I fooled around in college but I never particularly enjoyed it. And then I met you.”

“So... Not guys, not girls, jus’... Me?” Harley clarified, her voice a little squeaky.

“Yeah,” Ivy admitted. “Huh,” she thought out loud, clutching the book to her chest and standing to leave. “Maybe you _are_ the favourite around here.”

Without another word she left the room and didn’t look back, slightly embarrassed about her confession. Harley, on the other hand, was staring at the place she’d been, a little stunned.

Later that night they curled up on the sofa together, just like they always had, but for the last couple of nights Harley had inched closer to her, falling asleep with her head on Ivy’s shoulder more often than not. Tonight though, throwing herself down by Ivy’s side, she seemed wide-awake. Ivy nosed her hair in greeting, smelling the shampoo they both used and flicked the TV on.

“And finally news from Arkham tonight as concerns for known drug-dealer and felon Jack Napier, aka “The Joker”, have been raised once again.” The TV cut to a mugshot of him with bloodshot eyes, a bruised cheekbone, a split lip and a broken nose. Ivy tried to change the channel – feeling sick with anger at the sight of him – but Harley wordlessly took the remote from her, her eyes locked on the screen.

“The so-called Joker has made something of an enemy of himself within the walls of the infamous asylum,” the news anchor reported, addressing the camera. “He is now in solitary confinement for the third time this month for his own safety, a spokesperson for the Asylum told Gotham City News, after he was ganged up on by thirty or so other inmates for-” the anchor’s eyes narrowed at the teleprompter in front of her “-antagonising them to the point of self-destructive insanity.”

“Well what more can you expect from a bunch of wanton criminals?” joked her co-host. 

“That’s very true, Mike. And that’s all from us tonight folks, we’ll be back with you at 7AM tomorrow. Have a great evening everyone!” They waved at the camera with fake smiles and pretended to speak to each other as the camera panned out.

Ivy was frozen still, she barely had the confidence to breathe. Joker was in Arkham? Damn. She couldn’t decide whether she was surprised the kid had it in him to get thrown in there or whether she wasn’t surprised in the slightest because he was a _fucking psychopath_.

On the other hand, the fact that he was getting the crap beaten out of him so bad it made local news could only have been a good thing.

She tried not to be too smug about it. Ivy remembered a time when Harley would have been distraught, would have lost her temper, would have cried and fought and bled until she could work out how to rescue him. Things had changed, and she didn’t want him any more, but that didn’t mean she didn’t care about him, even if she had _no reason to_. Ivy chanced a look down at her, but to her absolute surprise, Harley was smiling.

“Dumb moron,” she sneered, resting her head back on Ivy’s shoulder. “Always was out lookin’ for trouble.”

“Do you miss him?” Ivy asked cautiously.

“Nah,” Harley replied dismissively. “Doesn’t even cross my mind most days.”

From the tone of her voice and her reassuring smile, Ivy knew she was telling the truth. She wrapped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed, letting out the breath she’d been holding. Harley passed the remote back to her and they settled into one another with the comforter over them.

Despite the intangible, ever-present undercurrent that ran between them, life had become easy and simple enough. They shared household chores, laughed to the point of tears at in-jokes nobody else would find funny, tended to the greenhouse together and became heavily invested in a whole bunch of different TV shows. At the end of the day they would sleep apart some nights and together for others. There were more perilous moments, of course there were, when it seemed like something was going to give, but each time Ivy held her breath and let them roll on by.

One bright, cool day, Ivy was in her bedroom preparing for the next stage in her bio-hybridisation research and it involved the thing she loved the least about plants: dealing with other scientists. She tied her hair up into a messy bun and retrieved her glasses from her bedside table, determined to ward off the headache that was threatening to set in any way she could. 

She had a call booked with Woodrue to discuss the next steps of their research. It would go on for an hour or so and then it would be over, she wouldn’t have to think about it any more and she could chill out with Harley. Maybe they could watch some of those cartoons she loved so much or finally try those gymnastic pretzel-person stretches she always did in the living room, whether or not Ivy was on the sofa trying hard not to bite her own fist.

She mooched downstairs, giving Harley a friendly wave as she passed by the living room and made a beeline for the greenhouse. Out of habit, more than anything else, she put her lab coat on and grabbed her clipboard. It would be simple, she had prepared for this. All she needed to do was convince him to loan her his specimens for the next phase of testing. That was it.

Forty-five minutes later, Ivy was on the warpath.

She had paced up and down the middle aisle of the greenhouse, notes in hand, taking deep breaths through her nose whilst she calmly and sufficiently explained the results of months of meticulous research and flawlessly designed experiments. For all the good it did her, he still refused to contribute the specimens he held until she agreed to do it _his_ way even though his way was _wrong_.

She hung up and dropped her phone on her desk in frustration, then pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. Harley was in the house, she thought, and her feet had begun walking towards her before she had even really thought about it.

She found Harley in the kitchen, humming quietly to herself as she finished up putting away the clean dishes from their dinner the night before.

“God, that guy!” she swore through gritted teeth, storming in and beginning to pace.

Harley didn’t look up from where she was bent over, putting plates in a cupboard. “It went that well, huh?”

“He just doesn’t get it!” Ivy exclaimed, pacing back and forth and throwing her hands in the air in frustration. “He doesn’t understand how I could possibly know more than he does, even though I’m more qualified than he is _and_ I’ve been studying this for longer _and_ I have the evidence to back it up. Oh and I’m _right_ , by the way! I know I am!”

Harley stood up and turned to look at her.

“I mean, who the hell does he think he is?” she continued, on a roll. “His arrogance could set me back months if I gave in! Just because he won that damn grant last year, and he managed to cultivate a ghost orchid, he thinks he knows everything and honestly? He got lucky. The guy’s a knob, I mean he really is just-” She stopped pacing. “What?”

Harley was unapologetically staring at her.

“ _What_?” Ivy repeated. “Oh God,” she cringed. “Do I have dirt on my face again?”

“The hell with it,” Harley muttered to herself, kicking the cupboard door shut.

In one swift move, she crossed the distance between them, pulled Ivy’s clipboard out of her hand, tossed it with a flick of her wrist, took Ivy’s wrists in her hands, pinned her up against a wall and kissed her.

And all Ivy could do was make a noise of complete surprise.

“I can’t stand it any more,” Harley gasped between kisses, barely giving Ivy enough room to breathe or think or- _What_? “I want you. I need you. I’m crazy about you.” Harley pressed up against her, releasing her wrists and running her hands over Ivy’s collarbones to rest against her neck, pinning her against a wall with her body. It felt so good it made Ivy's legs weak. “Sometimes I miss you when you’re right next to me. It makes no sense.” She sounded needy and desperate. “You make me so happy. I love you, Pammy. I always have.”

It took a moment for Ivy to catch up but – once she had – she was _right there_. She thrust her hands into Harley’s hair, pulling her in for a heated kiss, tugging on the strands and making Harley moan in her mouth.

Harley pulled back and looked up at Ivy. She was electric, her eyes dark and alive. “Pamela Lillian Isley,” she whispered, her words kiss-drunk and husky. “Let me take you to bed.”

Ivy shivered, burning hot, biting back a whimper. All she could do was nod, dumbstruck. Harley smirked and led her by the hand, giggling as they ran upstairs.

They made it to Ivy’s door and Harley shoved her up against it, kissing her hard while Ivy scrabbled for the handle. The door opened behind her and they practically fell through, Harley catching her just in time. Ivy shrugged her lab coat off and let it fall to the floor.

By the time the back of her knees hit the bed, Harley’s hands were already on her skin, pushing her shirt over her head, the glasses knocked off her face immediately forgotten as collateral damage. Harley pushed her back onto the bed and crawled on top of her, pressing a knee up between her legs and making Ivy gasp into her mouth. Ivy surged up, tugging Harley’s ridiculous t-shirt up over her head and tossing it off to the side. She held Harley by her hips and planted open-mouthed kisses down her breast bone while Harley hastily unhooked her own bra. The second it was gone, Ivy closed her mouth over one of Harley’s nipples, sucking and biting just a little, looking up at her just in time to see her eyes flutter closed and a soft moan escape her lips.

She unhooked her own bra and tossed it over Harley’s shoulder with a smirk, going for her waistband. Her shorts hung low on her hips and Ivy wanted them off, _now_. She began to tug at them but Harley stepped back off the bed, tugging them off herself before closing her fingers around Ivy’s waistband and pulling. With some distinctly undignified wriggling, they managed to work together to free Ivy of the tight jeans and panties she was wearing and then Harley was back on her again, kissing her like she needed her to breathe. 

“Over there,” Harley told her breathlessly, pointing to the pillows. Ivy shuffled back until she was lying in the middle of the bed, tugged her hair out of her bun and propped herself up on her elbows, with Harley kneeling between her legs, drinking in the sight.

“God Pammy,” Harley purred, positioning herself between her legs to kiss her again. Her hips rolled against Ivy’s, making her knees bend as Harley’s lithe body moved on top of her, driving her crazy.

Distracted by her mouth, Ivy barely felt Harley’s hand on her knee until it started to stroke up the inside of her thigh. She held her breath in anticipation until Harley stopped.

“You always made me say please…” Harley chuckled.

“I...” Ivy panted. “If you don’t-… God Harley I need you.”

“Need me to…?” she teased, stroking an inch higher and digging her fingertips into the sensitive skin there.

Ivy rolled her hips and pulled Harley into another fevered kiss. Harley caved, never one for being patient, sinking two fingers inside of her, making her gasp while Harley moaned into her mouth.

She pulled back for air, panting as they breathed in each other. Harley used her hips as leverage to push her hand in deeper, pushing Ivy’s knees higher and she gasped again, rolling her hips up to meet her.

They rocked like that for a little while, all of Ivy’s nerve endings on fire, pleasure coursing through her, wave after wave of unending electric bliss. Harley kissed her neck, sucking on her pulse point, making her tilt her head and arch her back. She reached down, cupping Harley’s perfect little ass in her hands, trying to pull her in deeper, harder, she needed _more_.

Harley looked into her eyes. “I’ve always wanted to pull this move on ya,” she giggled, rolling over and pulling Ivy on top of her in one move. She pushed her fingers deep and then sat up, bracing herself with her other arm on the bed. Ivy scrambled a little to reposition herself; Harley had pushed her up on her knees and she was straddled over her legs; she sank down as Harley’s fingers moved in and out and _deeper_.

A hot jolt of pure fire shot up her spine and she began to feel the warmth pool in her belly. She was close, so close, she had absolutely no control and for the first time in her entire life she couldn't have cared less. 

“I love you, I love you, oh _Harley_ ,” Ivy moaned her name like a prayer, throwing her head back. Harley’s other arm braced across her back, using her surprising strength to hold her up as Ivy rode her hand without restraint.

“I got ya,” Harley reassured her. “God Pammy, I wanna do this forever,” she used her thumb to rub against her clit every time Ivy rode her deeper, fucking herself on Harley’s fingers and that was _it_. Ivy held the sides of her face and leaned in for a bruising kiss, whimpering and gasping into her mouth as she came, panting against Harley’s lips.

Ivy rolled forward, sinking down onto the sheets so she was lying next to Harley, a goofy smile plastered on her face. “That was...” she tried, realising she had no sufficient words. Instead she just giggled through her post-orgasm high.

“God I missed that,” Harley admitted, her voice breathy as she lay down next to her.

“M’pretty sure we’ve never done that,” Ivy corrected.

Harley looked smug then her face fell. “Wait! Do we hafta have normal sex now?” she actually looked worried, it was kind of adorable.

Ivy propped herself up on her elbows. “ _Have_ to have?” She raised her eyebrows.

“Get to have-. Aw crap, Pammy, I didn’t mean-” Harley crawled a little closer, clearly repentant.

Ivy smirked, she was so easy to wind up. “No, baby, we can still do the kinky stuff if you want.”

Harley smiled coyly, sucking on the end of one of her fingers. Ivy didn’t miss the way she slyly licked them clean. “I really like it.”

“I know you do,” Ivy sat up and shuffled back, resting her back against the headboard. “I do too. Now, if you can promise to be good, we can be kinky with no toys at all.”

Harley’s eyes sparkled with excitement as she pushed herself up too. “How?”

“C’mere,” Ivy waved her closer. “On your knees. Turn around.”

Harley turned so she had her back to her. Ivy crossed her own legs and took a gentle hold of Harley’s hips, guiding her back to sit on her lap, tucking Harley’s slender calves under her knees. The angle made Harley’s legs spread wide and her breath hitched as it exposed her to the cool air of the room. Ivy let out a pleased hum, she was going to make so much use of Harley’s flexibility.

“Now,” Ivy started, purring low in Harley’s ear. “I don’t _have_ to get the restraints but if you can’t prove to me that you can behave yourself, I _will_ , so be a good girl. I mean it, Harl.”

Harley shuddered and nodded obediently.

“Hands behind your back,” Ivy commanded. Harley did so immediately, holding one of her wrists in her other hand. Her fingers naturally fell between Ivy’s legs, all she had to do was reach with a fingertip-

“I can feel that,” Ivy warned her, hooking her chin over Harley’s shoulder. “Don’t you dare. Now close your eyes and keep them closed.”

Harley did, bowing her head, completely at Ivy’s mercy.

Using both her hands, Ivy ran her fingertips up and down Harley’s sides in light strokes that made her shiver and wriggle. One fingertip crossed over her taut stomach, the other trailed down to her hip and across the top of her thigh. She inhaled sharply and tried to roll her hips.

“Keep still,” Ivy reminded her.

Reluctantly, she did. Ivy’s fingertips wandered up her torso until they reached her nipples, drawing circles around each one, eliciting a sharp breath, an honest-to-god whine and needy moan as Ivy tweaked them at the same time.

“I knew you’d love this,” Ivy confessed, rolling her hardened nipples between her fingertips. Harley began to pant, her eyes tightly closed, her fists clenched and knuckles white, wriggling on Ivy’s lap unconsciously as she craved friction.

“ _Please_ Pammy,” she begged. “M’tryin’ so hard to be good, I swear I-” Ivy twisted one of Harley’s nipples just hard enough for it to hurt, interrupting whatever she was going to say by making her squeak and moan. Ivy chuckled, enjoying being a little sadistic, pulling Harley apart slowly, peeling back her resolve.

Ivy started to stroke lower, one arm coming to rest over Harley’s stomach to ground her. Her stomach jumped as Ivy stroked down her side. It jumped again when her fingers ran across her hipbone and down the outside of her thigh. It jumped a third time when her fingers began to run up the inside of Harley’s thigh. 

Ivy stopped about halfway up her thigh and Harley tensed; she did not make a sound.

“Baby?” Ivy inquired gently. “Are you so excited that you’ve given yourself hiccups?”

Harley’s stomach jumped. “No,” she replied innocently. It jumped again.

“Good girls don’t tell lies, Harley,” Ivy warned. Harley cracked an eye open and smiled at her, her cheeks pink with arousal and embarrassment. For a moment it wasn’t a scene, it was just them, honest and imperfect and hopelessly in love.

“Okay fine yes,” Harley admitted, squeezing her eyes shut again. “But I don’t care just _touch me_ ,” she pleaded.

“What if I can make them go away?” Ivy offered playfully, making her fingers walk over Harley’s thigh.

“Does it involve touching me? Because _seriously Red_ -” she growled through gritted teeth.

“No,” Ivy chuckled. She leaned in close, pressed herself up against Harley’s back, her hands on Harley’s stomach, pulling her impossibly closer, touched her lips to her ear and whispered in a low and sultry voice "I used to think about this when I was alone. I used to think about having you in my arms, about how I never wanted to let you go, even before the first time we slept together. You’re so irresistibly _cute_. I took you to that club because I knew you’d like it, I never thought in my wildest dreams you’d be down for me. Then you came to my house and asked me to tie you up and spank you, and baby, you’d better believe I’d already thought about it. I used to touch myself thinking about it, imagining you like this and I’d come all over my own fingers, screaming your name.”

“Ohh _fuck_ ,” Harley whined desperately. 

She was doing so well.

“Are your hiccups gone?” Ivy asked innocently.

They sat for a couple of moments, waiting for the involuntary jump. It didn’t happen. 

“Yeah, okay, fine, you’re a freakin’ sex-talkin’ hiccup killin’ genius,” Harley acknowledged sarcastically, her impatience getting the better of her. “Meanwhile, I’m about to es’plode over here. You’re really mean Red, you know that?” she pouted.

“While I don’t condone that kind of talk, I’m afraid that, once again, I can’t quite help myself...” Ivy murmured, slipping a hand between Harley’s legs and hissing at how wet she was while Harley let out a moan of sheer relief.

Harley rolled her hips towards Ivy’s hand as she stroked through her, enjoying feeling of wetness on her fingertips. As she began to stroke in slow, wide circles, Harley let out a soft gasp, her thighs beginning to twitch. Ivy’s arm wrapped around her waist grounded her, pulling her into her lap and keeping her there, while Harley panted and moaned and writhed, submerged in pure sensation.

“Does that feel good baby?” Ivy cooed, lips still against her ear. When her moans began to get a little louder Ivy picked up the pace, stroking tight circles over the same spot over and over and over, making Harley’s breath stutter.

“Oh, oh fuck-” Harley gasped, tilting her head back, her whole body tense and trembling. “Pammy don’t stop, please don’t stop, oh don’t- Oh f-” Harley let out a half-scream as she came, coating Ivy’s fingers. Ivy pressed a little harder, helping her through it. And she didn’t stop, even when Harley began to twitch and whine, all strung out with over-sensitivity.

In a moment of clemency, and because she kind of wanted to see what would happen, Ivy moved her hand away, bringing it to Harley’s mouth and touching her own wetness to her lips, coating them tenderly. Without instruction, Harley took Ivy’s fingers into her mouth and sucked, a soft, satisfied moan in the back of her throat. Once they were nice and clean, Ivy slipped her fingers out of Harley’s mouth and put her hand on her own arm, holding her on her lap. Harley licked her lips.

“You taste so sweet, my pretty thing,” Ivy told her, voice practically a purr. “Now do you understand why I’m addicted to you?”

Harley answered with a shuddering laugh, still shaking in Ivy’s arms. Ivy chuckled, moving her hand back to the top of Harley’s thigh.

“Wha-?” Harley gasped, squeaking when Ivy’s hand moved back between her legs.

“You said don’t stop,” Ivy purred. “You need to be careful what you wish for.”

“But-” Harley squealed as Ivy’s fingers brushed over her clit, just once, a test. She wouldn’t make her come again, not yet, two fingers lazily moving through her, coating her own fingers.

“Please-” Harley gasped, sounding unsure as to what she was even begging for. Ivy hummed in false concern before rolling her fingers over the hard nub again, making her squeak, then allowed her a breather before doing it again, then again, until she resumed the wide circles with her fingers.

Harley groaned and Ivy felt the moment when it went from _too much_ to _not enough_. She began panting, a little harder than before, the noises tumbling from her lips were continuous and nonsensical, all soft curses and happy moans.

But it wasn’t enough to make her come this time, Ivy could tell. Once she had Harley addicted to her touch, seeking it with her hips, Ivy slipped her other hand between Harley’s legs and sank two fingers inside of her without warning or preamble. 

Harley groaned, deep and guttural. “Yes, _yes_ , oh God- Oh fuck- Ohh...”

“Aw, look at you. You’re just a hot mess for me, aren’t you?” Ivy purred into her ear, both her hands moving in unison and without mercy.

Harley could do nothing but take it, the relentless pressure inside of her building as she rolled her hips, craving harder, faster, _now_. She bucked against her and stilled, sinking down onto Ivy’s hand as hard as she could, tightening around her fingers as she came, again, _hard_ with a shaking, shuddering moan, Ivy’s lips planting kisses on her neck.

Once she took a steady breath, Ivy slipped her fingers out of her, wrapping her arm around Harley’s stomach again and pulling her back against her. The fingers on her clit stalled, but Ivy didn’t take them away.

Harley panted, waiting for Ivy to let her lie down, to relax. When the realisation sank in that Ivy’s hand was _still touching her_ , she whimpered. “You can’t-? No, Red, please, I- I can’t-”

Ivy hummed happily and began to twitch her fingers, making Harley’s whole body jump. Her caresses were feather-light and gentle, barely touching her, moving without an agenda. After a little while, she began stroking slow, wide circles around her swollen, sensitive clit, not touching it, just teasing. Harley’s moans were high-pitched and breathy, she was practically shaking, her thighs were tight and her toes were curled by Ivy’s legs. 

“Pammy, _please_...” she begged, choking out a half-sob.

“Please what? Do you want me to stop? Or do you want me to keep going?” Ivy clarified, her voice low and soft.

“I don’t… I don’t know!” Harley wailed, her voice thin. “Just… Oh… Oh _God_ …” she sounded almost scared. “I think I-... It's your voice... Pammy, _fuck_... I think I’m gonna come again…”

“That’s it honey,” Ivy cooed softly into her ear. “You’ve been so good for me. You’re such a good girl, I know you can do it.” She took Harley’s earlobe between her teeth and sucked it. “Besides, I won’t let you go until you come again. You have no choice.” 

Harley let out a wild, animalistic half-moan half-growl and stilled as her third orgasm hit, less powerful than the first two but it knocked all the wind out of her. She sank back onto Ivy’s lap, exhausted, and Ivy _finally_ took her hand away. She wrapped both of her arms around Harley’s waist and kissed her jaw, though she was so out of it she barely even noticed.

Completely spent, Ivy gently laid her down and shifted so she could lie down next to her. Harley cracked one dazed eye open and looked at her. She tried to say something, but whatever she had wanted to say came out as a bunch of mumbled syllables. Instead, she rolled into Ivy and stretched an arm around her to tug her closer.

“C’mon cutie pie,” Ivy spoke eventually, stroking her hair. “Let’s get into bed. You did so well, baby.”

Harley made contented nonsensical noises, managing to shift up until she was by the pillows while Ivy pulled back the covers and they crawled under them together.

Maybe this wasn’t exactly aftercare, Ivy thought, but Harley was falling asleep in her arms and she wasn’t going anywhere. Ivy couldn’t have wished for more. 

They fell asleep the way they had always done, wrapped up in one another with contented smiles.

Harley woke up first the next morning and used the opportunity to straddle Ivy’s hips, leaning down to kiss her awake.

“Good morning princess,” Ivy mumbled through a smile, her voice thick with sleep.

“Mornin’,” she greeted brightly, her lips against Ivy’s as she pulled back just far enough to talk, though they brushed against each other with every syllable.

“Got any plans for the day?” Ivy asked her, just as she did every morning.

“A few,” Harley giggled.

“That makes sense,” Ivy acknowledged playfully, bringing a hand up to tuck Harley’s hair behind her ear. “You had three orgasms, I only had one. You've got some catching up to do, Harl.”

Harley gave her a mock gasp and sat up, bracing herself with her palms on Ivy’s bare stomach. “Hey! Is that any way to talk to your girlfriend?” she huffed and stared out the window, pretending to be offended, but Ivy didn’t miss the way she chewed her lip nervously. Harley chanced a look at her, knowing full well what she’d said.

Ivy raised her eyebrows and smiled, her chest full and stomach swooping. Harley’s tattoo was healing nicely, highlighted by the morning sunlight. She reached up to run her fingers over it, then gently pull Harley’s lip from between her teeth with her thumb. “My girlfriend?”

“If you want?” Harley gave her a shy smile.

Ivy growled in happiness, grabbing Harley by her waist and using her body weight to flip her down onto her on her back, pinning her there. She kissed Harley through her excited giggling, swallowed her own tears of joy and pulled the covers over them both. 

THE END.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was my first Harlivy fic and writing it has been a really intense and surprisingly emotional experience. The response has been overwhelming. Thank you for taking the time to read it. It means a lot to me and I hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> I’ve also decided to rename the whole story to _A Matter of Time_ since it keeping the same name as the first chapter didn’t seem right anymore.
> 
> Speaking of “a matter of time”, I’m already planning my next one… But there’s an epilogue of this to follow first. ♥


	6. Epilogue: For All Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by 'Still Into You' by Paramore.
> 
> This is disgustingly cute. You have been warned.

It had been a year, more or less, since Harley had moved in with Ivy and it had been the best year of her life. Though she would always be a little broken at times, Ivy had been exactly what she had needed to heal and grow. She felt like herself again, confident, free and ready to take on the world. 

In her free time – with Ivy’s support – she had decided to freelance as a counsellor, though she would never go as far as touching clinical psychology again.

Harley had wanted to help people who had been through what she had; she couldn’t stand the idea of someone else, just like her, going through it alone. Whenever she worried about whether she would be good enough or smart enough to do it – which was a lot – she would remind herself that _not everyone had an Ivy_ and it gave her the strength to carry on. She even had a couple of patients of her own and the sessions had been going well.

Back at home, Tiny Sprout had been appropriately renamed Sprout; he was no longer tiny and also a great-great-great-great grandfather to lots of other tiny sprouts. He took pride of place by Ivy’s desk so Harley could keep an eye on him. She still talked to him and watered him every day, since she had read somewhere that talking to plants helps them grow. It was something to do with the sound waves of her voice, Ivy had told her, explaining all the science nonsense behind it. Harley wasn’t too fussed about the reason why; she liked talking to him and he was really good at keeping secrets.

Ivy had been a bit distant lately though. Something was definitely going on. She had been on her phone at random hours of the day and night and there had been weird men in suits coming to the door, only to go straight into the greenhouse. They hadn’t stayed to chat and Ivy hadn’t even introduced her; they would just knock on the door, tell her they had a meeting with Dr Isley, mull around the greenhouse for a little while then leave with a tight smile and a polite handshake.

Harley had tried to bring it up with her a couple of times but Ivy had just kissed her forehead, smiled that Pammy smile that made Harley light up inside, and told her not to worry about it.

Today, though, that didn’t matter. Today was Harley’s birthday and nothing was allowed to make her worried or sad on her birthday.

The second she woke up and realised it was finally here she squealed with excitement, crawling over Ivy’s slumbering form to rush downstairs to the living room. There were presents there that had been patiently waiting for her for over a week now, having appeared seemingly out of nowhere one day. It had been driving her crazy.

She hadn't had a real birthday present maybe ever. Her parents could never afford one, or so they told her, and Joker would buy her stuff he wanted only to keep it for himself. 

These though, she knew, would be for her. They were from Ivy, and Ivy loved her. In a moment of weakness, she’d even shook them when nobody else was looking. They had made quiet rattling noises and though she had thought about it a lot, she had no idea what they were. 

She was finally about to find out!

She ran downstairs and Ivy followed her lazily, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

There were two presents wrapped neatly with bows. One square, flat box and one small cubed one.

She reached for the small box but a hand on her arm stopped her. She turned to look at Ivy, jarred by the guilty expression on her face.

“Honey, before you open your gifts, I want to talk to you,” she told her gently.

Harley put the present down slowly, bracing herself. This couldn’t be good.

“What’s up?” she asked, trying really hard to sound casual.

Ivy took one of her hands and looked into her eyes. She looked sad. Why did she look sad? “I know things have been… Weird… Lately,” she began, grimacing at her own words. “And I know you’ve been worried. I’m sorry for that.” She lifted a hand to cup Harley’s cheek and stroked it with her thumb, offering her a small smile; Harley pushed into the touch. “There was a good reason for it, I promise, and today you’ll find out why.”

Harley blinked. She didn’t know what to say to that; it was pretty cryptic, as far as confessions go.

Ivy reached behind her and picked up the larger square, flat box. “This one first?”

With a little more trepidation than before, Harley tore off the glittery wrapping paper. It was a black velvet box. Her excitement began to bubble inside of her again as she opened it carefully, letting out a gasp.

Inside the box was a black collar with _Harley_ hand-stitched into it in white thread. On one side of her name were three scarlet diamonds, and – on the other – a sprig of green ivy.

She took it out the box gingerly and lifted it to her eye level to get a closer look. It was exquisite; she wanted to look at it all day.

“Do you like it?” Ivy asked anxiously.

“I love it,” she gasped, a little overwhelmed. “Can I put it on now?” She handed it to Ivy, the excitement clear on her face.

Ivy smiled at that, bright and wide. “Of course. Here, let me,” she answered gently, taking the collar and moving to stand behind her. Harley bowed her head, revelling in the feeling of it as it became comfortable against her skin, Ivy’s fingers making her shiver with the lightest contact. It locked with a soft click and she lifted her head.

It felt strange, at first. A good strange. It was slightly more than she had expected it to be, a presence she would always be aware of, but it felt right, grounding, like she should have been wearing it her whole life.

She turned to look at Ivy whose eyes began to sparkle. “It’s perfect,” she gasped, bringing her hand to her own mouth. Harley really, really agreed and thanked her with a kiss that went on just a little too long.

Eventually Ivy tapped her arm and she pulled back. “What about the other one?” she suggested, her voice breathy, gesturing to where it sat waiting, temporarily forgotten.

Harley turned away from her and bent over to pick it up. She held it in her hand and took a breath before tearing off the paper. Inside was another small, black box. She lifted the lid and frowned, confused. There was nothing in there apart from a piece of folded paper.

She took it out and unfurled it between her fingertips. It contained two simple words:

_Turn around._

She spun round and her breath caught in her chest, her eyes beginning to fill with tears.

Ivy was down on one knee, holding an open ring box in her hand. The red and gold ring inside glittered in the morning sunlight.

“Harleen Quinzel,” she began, her voice strained with emotion. “I’ve always known that I loved you... But this last year has taught me that I simply cannot live without you. Like my plants, I used to look to the Sun for light and for warmth. Now I look to you.” She cleared her throat. “I want to make you happy forever, if you’d let me?”

Harley couldn’t speak, her eyes brimming with happy tears. She extended her hand to a hopeful Ivy, letting her slip the ring onto her finger.

As soon as it was where it was meant to be, Harley tackled her to the floor, kissing her like she would die any second.

“So,” Ivy gasped between kisses. “Will you marry me?”

Harley gave her a _look_. 

They just about made it to the bedroom.

A few hours later they were cuddled up on their sofa, Ivy flicking through their movie options. Harley stared at the ring, fascinated. It really was beautiful. An incandescent pink red stone, set in a gold band, a black gem line running all the way through the gold. It reminded Harley of her new collar and she brushed her fingertips over the stitching of it with a smile.

The pale stone reflected the light from the TV, shining pink and red and lilac and white. It took Harley’s breath away as she twisted it around, making the colours dance.

“This really is a beautiful ruby,” she remarked softly. 

Ivy shifted in her seat. “Actually, um, it isn’t a ruby,” she corrected, a little sheepish. Harley blinked at her. 

“It’s a red diamond.”

Harley froze, stunned, staring at the seemingly innocuous gemstone on her finger. 

There were two things she knew about red diamonds: one, they were rare, like really rare, like only-a-handful-of-them-on-earth-rare and two, they were worth _millions_.

“How… How’d ya get it?” she managed finally, almost too stunned to speak.

“I cashed in some overseas investments,” Ivy told her, shrugging like it was no big deal. “Sold the patents of the growth tonics I use in the greenhouse to a biochemical manufacturer and sold some of my rarest plants to private collectors.”

Suddenly it all made sense: the late-night phone calls, the strange men in the greenhouse, _don’t worry about it_. 

It had all been for her. 

Harley’s jaw dropped. “You… I… What the _what_?”

“The look on your face is totally worth it.” Ivy snickered. “We’re talking _shock and awe_.” 

Harley took a couple of moments to collect herself then took a deep breath. “Okay,” she muttered under her breath, taking the ring off and setting it down carefully on the coffee table.

Ivy’s face fell. “Harl, what are you-? Don’t you like it?”

Harley turned to face her and smirked. “If I kept it on for what we’re gonna do now, I think it would hurt.”

Ivy frowned in confusion. 

Harley could wait. 

A couple of moments later, realisation dawned on Ivy’s face. She raised her eyebrows and gave Harley a shy smile. “ _Oh_ ,” she giggled.

“ _Oh_ ,” Harley nodded, playfully mocking her, giggling with her as she crawled into Ivy’s lap, perfectly happy to never stop kissing her all the way up to their wedding day.

♥


End file.
